


Beyond Miraculous: A New Adventure in Gotham

by AlyceSaysNo



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged Up, Angst, Damian is not smooth, Daminette, F/F, F/M, Marinette is a responsible adult and I am proud of her, Multi, No Bashing, No Beta, Slow Burn, except lila, i am trash for this ship, light on the salt, maribat au, no editing we die like real women, sorry for everything, sunshine and angst are one of my favorite pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-01-02 05:23:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21156317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlyceSaysNo/pseuds/AlyceSaysNo
Summary: After the defeat of Hawkmoth and the retirement of her partner, Marinette has been floundering. She can't seem to get excited about what she used to, can't settle into the quiet humdrum of civilian life. Sure, she's has taken over guardianship of the Miraculous, graduated high school, and moved on to a nice apprenticeship. She's moved on from the drama and heartbreak of lycee and from being Ladybug.Watching her Chosen and Guardian flounder, Tikki suggests that maybe somewhere else could use Ladybug. That there's plenty of hurt in the world. That they could help. Inspired, Marinette decides to take on one of the most chaotic cities in the world: Gotham.





	1. Goliath Makes a New Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Imma just jump in here because like plot what plot I just started writing this due to stress and my obsession with the goddamn AU which was created by ozmav. Curse you and thank you. 
> 
> Some notes about this AU: I live for the salt, but this is probably not going to be heavy on it. I'm not one for bashing people (except, you know, Lila), but there will definitely be angst. Yeah. Lots of that. 
> 
> Also, 9/10 of this idea came from the fact that I LOVE GOLIATH AND NOBODY TALKS ABOUT HIM IN THIS AU AND HE DESERVES TO BE HERE.

Well this was a predicament, Marinette thought as she felt her equilibrium shift from swinging to falling.

  
Her yoyo string, just barely visible between the scattered lights of office windows, went slack. She felt a jolt of real fear for the first time in years. A fall from this height might kill her and, if it didn't, it would hurt like a bitch. She was so wrapped up in her rush of panic that she made no move to correct the error. Ladybug, on her first night out in Gotham, plunged to the pavement.

  
A piercing whistle added to her distraction and she twisted in midair to see if she could spot the source. She was really falling now. She should probably do something to fix that. The cars rushing along the city street were getting a little too big for comfort.

  
She drew her yoyo back for another throw as a pair of giant clawed hands wrapped around her. Equilibrium shifted again, lifting her up in the cool night air. She watched her yoyo dangle uselessly below them, a pendulum sailing above sparse midnight traffic. The string was partially wrapped around her savior's fingers. Marinette craned her head around to get a better look at whatever had a hold of her, but all she could see was dark red fur.

  
After a series of powerful wing beats, the beast righted her. They kept a comfortable hold on her; secure enough that she couldn't wiggle, but not too tight. Her yoyo clattered against the concrete rooftop. When they landed, the beast didn't let her go. Instead, a large nose began to sniff right at her temple. She caught a glimpse of a massive canine, a blast of white against red.

  
"Thank you," she told them. "You saved my life."

  
The creature clicked in return and then licked her from shoulder to hairline. She giggled and cooed, "Aw, what a sweetie."

  
"And who are you?" a young man asked.

  
She turned forward, catching sight of the speaker. He looked about her age, but it was hard to tell between the hood and the mask. He wore a red tunic accented with gold trim, green armored boots, and green gloves. Instantly, excitement sparked in her chest. She didn't think she would run into any Robin this quickly.

"I'm Ladybug."

"Never heard of you." He jumped off the rooftop access, his hood slipping back and revealing black hair. He walked over to her forlorn yoyo, picked it up, examined the string. "But you should be dead. This won't take your weight."

"It's stronger than it looks," she told him. The creature holding her whined a little and sniffed the string tangled around their paw. "Oh sweetie, I can get you untangled if you let me down."

"I've got questions for you first," Robin said.

"Go ahead," she replied with a friendly smile. He scowled back.

He slowly began pulling the string back into the yoyo, walking slowly toward her. "Why are you in Gotham?"

"To help. Paris doesn't need Ladybug anymore and I thought this may be a good place to start."

His frown deepened and he clicked his tongue. "Tt. We've got it covered."

"I know. But I still want to help. That's why I am here. To meet heroes like you."

He stared at her for several long seconds. She waited patiently, watching him unnecessarily rewind her yoyo. "We're vigilantes," he finally corrected.

"You help people in need. That makes you heroes to me." She gazed levelly at him. His eyes glittered in the dark.

"Goliath, down."

The creature slowly set her down. She snapped her wrist, yanking the yoyo out of Robin's hand and freeing Goliath from the tangle. Robin didn't seem as startled as much as he was annoyed. The large beast licked her again.

"Goliath, no—" he started, before Marinette reached up to give the creature a good chin scratch. They were at least twice as tall as she was. Free, she gazed in awe at his scrunched nose, honest yellow eyes, and gargantuan wings.

"Thank you so much…" she stopped, trying to figure out what to call them besides Goliath. She turned back to Robin. "What are they?"

"He is a dragon-bat. And not a pet," he added, more to Goliath than to her. The dragon-bat's tailed thumped against the ground. She stifled a giggle, thinking Robin wouldn't appreciate it. "He's very dangerous."

She stood on her tiptoes to try and reach his ear. Goliath leaned over, making an adorably quiet squeaking noise. "I can see that." Marinette was doing her best to hide her smile. "I did not know a creature like this lived in Gotham."

"He usually doesn't, but you're lucky he showed up when he did. You'd be a mess on the road if it wasn't for us." Robin approached, trying to get her to back away from Goliath. She obliged, much to the creature's disappointment. Marinette barely heard Robin mutter, "We're professionals," to him.

She grinned, nose wrinkling. "I am out of practice and in a new city. I would have corrected the mistake if he had not caught me."

Her confidence unnerved Robin. She was being way too calm about everything. And she was tiny. She had to be at least a foot shorter than he was. He could see muscle, but seriously? A yoyo? What kind of hero uses a yoyo?

"The kind who works with what she has," she replied, looking not at all offended.

He must have said that last part out loud. He shook his head. "I have to call this in to Batman."

Marinette's face brightened. "Please do. I am eager to meet him."

"He might throw you out of Gotham," Robin warned, knowing full well that he absolutely would not. That thought only served to piss him off. "You're too young for this."

"I am small, but not young. If anything, I'm just around your age. I've been doing this since I was thirteen."

Robin doubted they were that close in age. He tapped his comm to life. "Batman, we saved a kid in a superhero getup from falling to her death after trying to swing around Gotham with a yoyo."

He had hoped it would get a rise out of her. Instead she just waited with that unnerving confidence. He wondered if he should be taking her to Arkham instead of calling in Batman.

"... What," was Nightwing's reply.

"Robin, repeat that." Batman followed quickly, voice rushing out like he had just laid someone out.

"We saved. A kid. In a ladybug superhero getup. Who was falling to her death. Because she was trying to swing from Wayne Enterprises to the Grande. With a yoyo." Robin punctuated each point slowly. Again, Ladybug was unphased.

Nightwing barked a laugh. "I gotta see this, I'm on my way."

"In route," Batman added.

Marinette settled on the edge of the roof for the wait. Goliath slipped out from behind Robin and sprawled out at her feet, belly exposed. She couldn't resist. Robin watched, both awed and mortified, as she proceeded to give him a good rub. Goliath was a pushover sometimes, sure, but... what on earth had this girl done to his ferocious partner?

* * *

Nightwing wasn't sure how to react when he arrived. Damian was clearly upset by the whole situation, scowling as he kept an eye on the girl. Goliath, the great hairy beast, looked like he had died and gone to heaven.

And this kid. Damian wasn't exaggerating when he said ladybug. Her suit was as red as her namesake, with black spots running from her neck down to her wrists. Black cutouts around her middle afforded it a little more style and Dick got the sense that she was older than Damian let on. Her black hair was pulled back in a single bun with a red ribbon, while bangs were parted neatly around her spotted mask.

She was very tiny though. Damian was right about that.

He cleared his throat. She looked up from her petting and smiled at him. "Hello! It is nice to meet you, I'm Ladybug." Goliath whined. "Oh, I didn't forget about you," she assured him with an extra hard scratch for good measure.

"Uh… okay. So what are you doing here, Ladybug?"

"I am here to help," she chirped. Nightwing threw a look at Robin, who met his gaze with the deepest frown he had ever seen on the kid. He almost wondered if Damian was sulking.

"That's very… noble of you, but being a vigilante is dangerous work. You seem nice and all, but this is… a lot?" he finished weakly.

"We don't need any help here," Robin added.

She smiled at both of them, but turned her attention to Goliath. "My arm is getting tired now, _grande rouge_, I am going to have to stop scratching." The second she stopped, Goliath whistled mournfully. A large hand patted her knee.

Nightwing made another stab at getting more information. "So aside from monster taming, have you been a hero before?"

"Yes! I worked mostly in Paris, though. We defeated Hawkmoth almost three years ago now. Paris is safe and I want to help here."

  
Nightwing was starting to have thoughts that they really needed to head to Arkham. But he asked for clarification anyway. "And Hawkmoth was… a villain?"

"What's the—uh, witch, wizard, oh! Magic user. He misused his power and would take over people who were upset. The possessed people, the akumas, did terrible damage in pursuit of other powers."

"Uh huh," Nightwing said.

Damian whistled, startling them both. Goliath half-rolled over and chittered mournfully at his partner. He whistled again, more sternly. The dragon-bat got up, sniffed Ladybug's head again, and gave her another sloppy kiss before wandering back over to Robin.

"It may sound strange, but there are videos of akuma attacks online, if you would like to see them." She pulled a yoyo from her hip and flipped it open like a makeup compact. After a quick typing, she turned the yoyo toward Nightwing. A video played where the mirror should have been. A stone monster threw a car into the Seine, missing twin blurs of red and black. The video cut awkwardly to another moment, where the monster was holding a hostage of some kind. He saw what he assumed to be a younger Ladybug running toward the monster.

"Where might I find more of these?" he asked, tapping on his comms.

"Youtube is where I pulled this one. Just search for Paris akuma," she replied. Clicking the yoyo shut, Ladybug settled back down in her seat. "Did it not make news here? There was one in London too."

"We're pretty busy here." Nightwing said by way of apology. He heard Alfred muttering that he was looking into it on the other end of his comm.

She smiled brightly at him. He was beginning to understand why Damian was so unnerved. This Ladybug was so cheery compared to their usual companions. She vaguely reminded him of Starfire. "I understand. That is why I am here to help."

"Not that we don't appreciate it, but what makes you think you can help?" Nightwing tried not to sound condescending, but didn't think he pulled it off.

Marinette was unphased. "A trial run, maybe? I promise I can be of use or, at the very least, prevent casualties."

Robin snorted, but Nightwing asked skeptically, "Is there something you know that we don't?"

Her nose scrunched as she struggled to explain. "This place seems… sick? Not sick, maybe drained? Like it has had too much chaos. I can help. Would you like an example?"

"As long it isn't illegal," Nightwing joked, curious despite himself.

"I'd also like to see," Batman said, revealing himself from the shadows. Ladybug didn't start like Goliath did.

Grinning, she loosened her yoyo and began whipping it up into a steady spin. She threw it across the rooftop, wrapping it around a nearby pipe. Pulling the string taut, she ripped the pipe loose and sent it sailing over their heads and off the building. Glass shattered somewhere below.

"I said nothing illegal. That's destruction of prop—," Nightwing began, before Ladybug cut him off with a raised finger.

She pulled the yoyo back. Throwing it up in the air, she muttered, "Lucky Charm." A wrench fell into her hands in place of the yoyo.

"Well—," Batman began before she threw the wrench up into the air again.

"Miraculous Cure," she grinned. Glowing red bugs shot out from the airborne wrench, diving for the broken pipe and window. They vanished seconds later, leaving behind a restored pipe and her yoyo.

She looked at them with a bright smile. "If a miraculous is involved in battle, I can restore what was damaged. I'm not bad in a fight, either."

"Huh." Nightwing had seen a lot of weird things in his day. This might not have been the weirdest, but he definitely did not expect it.

"Just damage to objects?" Batman asked.

She clipped her yoyo back on her hip. "It's hard to say. I haven't had a chance to test if it will heal people. When we fought other Miraculous holders, yes, it would heal both things and people." Her smile faded and her eyes grew dark. "Even if they died during the battle."

"Hm." She waited patiently for him to find his words. "I would like to learn more about your power. Are there others like it?"

"There are no other holders active now." Her smile returned, like she was remembering a joke. "But they've worked in the past, if you look."

"I'd like… to more formally to discuss your role here, if you stayed," Batman said.

Before she could respond, Robin cut in. "You can't be serious."

"If she could reduce even property damage due to illegal activities, she is welcome," Batman's voice hardened. "Besides, Goliath isn't going to hang around forever and you could use backup."

"Ttch." Robin swung himself up onto Goliath's shoulders. "Let's go home." Goliath chittered, looking back at Ladybug.

He nudged him with his boot. "No, it's time to go home."

She smiled and waved at them. "Nice to meet you both. I hope to work with you soon."

Goliath seemed to accept that and took flight. Robin watched as Ladybug moved closer to Grayson and his father to continue their conversation. Annoyed, he tugged the dragon-bat's ear and whistled a command to land. They stopped on the roof of the observation deck; still with a clear view of the building where the newcomer and his family talked. He could barely make out her bright red costume amidst the shadows.

"When did you get so soft?" Damian grumbled.

Goliath looked at him with glowing yellow eyes that revealed nothing.

"She's a stranger. Not just a stranger, but a magic user."

The creature scratched himself and stared out over the city.

"I won't forget this," he muttered darkly.


	2. Couldn't Last a Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Brief, bloody imagery. 
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments! Our discussion of protein destruction in molecular biology lost my interest early because yes I do have some understanding of how proteases work, so I thought I would finish up this chapter. It's a bit short, but I didn't want to jump into the next part because then it would have become VERY LONG. I figured you'd all prefer a quicker update. 
> 
> Also: I am taking liberties with Kwami powers. They're magic and magic can do the impossible.
> 
> Also also: I make no apologies for the amount of talking in this chapter. Dialogue is my jam. 
> 
> Discussions in italics are being conducted in French unless otherwise stated.

It took at least another hour before Dick's voice rang out over his comms. "Nice lady. I think you'd even like her, Robin."  Robin ignored the jab at his less-than-friendly disposition. It didn't matter if they were going to let a clear and obvious threat slide, he was going to do his diligence. Luck was on his side; she swung his direction using that ridiculous toy. The fact that it did hold her weight and that she seemed fairly competent at navigating rooftops gnawed at him. Her practiced movements through the air reminded him a lot of Greyson on the trapeze. 

She swung around a corner and out of sight. He counted to thirty under his breath before patting Goliath on his shoulder. "Well, traitor, do you want to go find your new friend?" 

The beast squeaked at him and beat his wings. Still annoyed at Goliath's unusual interest in the self-reported hero, he climbed up to his back and they took off. Flying high over the rooftops, Damian could distantly see her swinging through the streets, although she was definitely working her way down to street level. 

Ladybug dropped onto a fifth-floor balcony of an apartment building in a quieter, darker, part of the city. The balcony was large, so he figured she wasn't hurting too much for money, whoever she actually was. Several recently potted plants seemed to be quite happy with their new situation. Goliath settled on an adjacent building. 

He tensed as a pale red light enveloped her. Her hair was still tied in a bun, but her suit was replaced with a soft pink cardigan, a white shirt, and a pair of jeans. She walked inside her apartment and flipped on the lights. 

"Stay, Goliath." Robin swung across the way to the balcony, careful to not hit any of the plants. He found a spot away from the sliding glass door and close to the window. It overlooked the kitchen, where the woman leaned over a kitchen island and a cookie jar. He didn't think he had actually seen anyone use a cookie jar outside of movies or television. Her long hair, now released from her bun, went down past her shoulder blades.

The apartment was sparse. A pile of broken-down boxes sat next to the front door. A large landscape photo of a building he couldn't quite make out hung from the living room wall, just across the room from the open kitchen. 

She held a cookie up in the air and a small bug flitted up to take it from her. He couldn't get a good look, but it was small and red. 

" _ What do you think, Marinette? _ " a small, sweet voice asked in French. Almost like Betty Boop but not half as screechy. 

" _ I hope they liked me. Robin didn't seem pleased _ ," she replied. 

The creature giggled. " _ It's okay, I'm sure you'll make friends soon. _ " 

" _ Well at least Goliath was friendly! Tikki, why didn't you ever tell me there were creatures like that? _ " 

Robin chanced a peek through the window. The bug-thing, Tikki, took a bite of a cookie. " _ Well, I thought all the dragon-bats were killed. Longg was very upset when it happened. _ " He stiffened. 

Marinette's face fell. " _ How long ago was that? _ "

" _ At least a decade ago. Longg wanted to go help, but Fu thought it was too dangerous. _ " 

" _ What happened to them? _ " 

Tikki shrugged her tiny shoulders and finished off the cookie. " _ I'm not sure. Maybe we'll find out someday. _ " She flew up to Marinette's face and gave her a small kiss. " _ Don't worry about it; you need to get to bed! You have to be up soon! _ " 

The woman laughed, " _ Alright, alright. _ " She recapped the cookie jar and brushed some crumbs off the counter. 

"This might give people the wrong idea," a small voice commented. Robin froze. "A hero, peeping on an innocent bystander? Not a good look, kid." There definitely hadn't been anyone on the balcony before he landed. 

Movement in his periphery drew his eye. He dropped into a crouch away from the windows and studied the shadows. Small green cat eyes stared at him near the corner of a pot, just under some freshly planted mint. He waited for it to say something else. 

"So how did you die?" 

His breath caught. A million theories ran through his mind, were they from Leviathan, the League? Could it read minds?

A black creature with a large head, cat years, and a small body flew in front of his face. "Well?" 

Damien stared at him, still panicked about the question. 

"Too personal? Fine. What's your name, kid?" the cat asked. 

"Robin," he said quietly, sliding down against the wall to sit.

"Not your hero name, your name. I promise not to tell Ladybug." 

"It's private." 

"Hmph." The cat flew in closer, "Nice gear kid, although it definitely doesn't afford as much protection as you'd hope." 

"What are you?" he asked. 

"Name's Plagg. God of destruction."

As much as he wanted to doubt Plagg, he didn't. Instead, he asked another question. "What do you want?" 

"I want your name and I want you to leave my Bug alone." He considered the young man with a serious gaze. "For now, at least." 

He finally said, "She asked to work with us. I'm just doing my due diligence." 

"That's fine. Suspicion seems to be your default." The cat settled on his knee. "Not a bad thing, given your history."

"And what do you know about my history?" 

The cat grinned, eyes narrowing. "Nothing specific, don't get your tunic in a twist. Just that you have a high level of destructive energy." 

He wasn't sure if that was an actual observation or an attempt to rile him up. "How do I know you're a god? You could just be a trick." 

Plagg cackled. His breath was rank like sour milk. "You're well on your way back to balance, but the deaths on your hands still weigh you down. Do you want to see?" 

"No," Damian breathed. 

"Too bad," the creature said and flew directly into his face. 

The world around him took on a strange, gray sheen and a blade stuck out of his chest. Right. Heretic. This wasn't good. 

Before he could get too wrapped up in the piercing shock of seeing that blade in his chest again, something tugged at his hand. He looked down and immediately wished he hadn't. Blood-coated teeth tugged at his gloves, reaching out of the now blacked-out concrete of the porch. Faces, ones he only remember in flashes because he didn't remember how many he had actually killed while he was in the League—started to ooze through the floor and the walls around him. 

He couldn't see Plagg, but he heard the god's voice clearly. "You did your year of atonement, Damian, but was it enough?" 

_ Was it enough _ ? He didn't like to think about that. When he came back to Gotham after leaving the first time, after his father brought him back to life, hell, even after he became a vegan, that question would stop him in his tracks. 

Maya, his real sibling, the sister of his heart, once told him that "R" stood for "Redemption." It helped at the time, but he was never really sure.

His chest tightened. The blood was soaking into his suit. All he saw was red staining his clothes. Dragon-bats, Nobody, civilians. Those villagers from that temple in South America, he thought. Did he really kill them? Was he remembering the dead or the ones left behind? 

His skin felt sticky. The faces gnawed at his body, sharp teeth piercing his skin even through the kevlar. Where was the rest of them? The second he thought about it, he couldn't he immediately suppressed any speculation. They gazed up at him with hollow, accusing eyes. He opened his mouth, knowing he absolute should not scream and

Everything was gone. His suit was just fine. Color flooded back into the world. His knees shook violently. 

Plagg floated in front of him. The cat laughed as Damian blinked warily at him, mouth closing slowly as he struggled to regain control of his pulse. 

"This is your first and only warning," the god told him, eyes glittering menacingly. "Now leave."

He had fought gods and mythical creatures before. He had faced them down as both the heir of Al Ghul and as the son of Batman with unshakable confidence. And he had beaten them. 

Damian got the hell out of there. 

* * *

Hair still wet from the shower, Marinette settled into bed. Her outfit for the next morning hung from the back of her desk chair—a pair of black slacks, a baby blue blouse, and a black jacket of her own design. Tikki watched from her perch on a large stuffed cat between the bed and the wall. 

" _ Marinette, will you be okay by yourself tonight? I want to talk to Plagg about something _ ."

She nodded absently. " _ Sure. I haven't had an episode in a while. _ "

The kwami nuzzled her cheek. " _ Call us if you need company. Don't stay up on your phone, okay? _ "

" _ Sure, mom _ ," Marinette teased. The kwami laughed and flew threw the wall into the kwami's room. She plugged her phone in and pulled up her messages. Her mom had sent a picture of their latest wedding cake in progress while Kagami sent a not-so-subtle link to a job listing for a fashion house in Paris. Chuckling, she joked with her parents that they better hurry up with all the little icing rosettes if they wanted to make their deadline. To Kagami, she sent a picture of the boxes that she had neatly stacked by the door for recycling the next day and a note that she just finished unpacking. 

She closed both the chats and checked her email. Nothing interesting; mostly promotions and notifications from her Instagram. She mightily fought the temptation to go through them, checked to make sure her alarms were set, and burrowed under her soft pink comforter. 

As Marinette fell into a dreamless sleep in her bedroom, Tikki and Plagg moved their discussion to the kitchen over cookies and camembert.

"How are you feeling, stinky?" 

Gently nibbling at a wedge of camembert, Plagg smiled at her. "Better, sugarcube. Don't worry about me."

She didn't wholly believed them. "Who was the person outside?" 

"Damian Wayne, once Damian Al Ghul, as Robin. A potential, but nosy. He saw your bug detransform." 

Tikki frowned. "We couldn't even last a night out." 

"It'll work out. Have another cookie." 

Still upset, the kwami took another sweet. "What did you do to him? You look so tired." 

"I'm fine," Plagg assured her. "Just gave him a warning. I don't want to scare him off; he'd be a good fit for the Black Cat." 

This alarmed her. "Are we too unbalanced?" 

He patted her shoulder, "No, just trying to be prepared." 

She snuggled closer to him, treat forgotten for the moment. He set aside the cheese and let her wrap him up in a soothing hug. "We'll face it together this time." 

Plagg squeezed her back. "Of course, sugarcube." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments increase my inspiration by 40% and my wpm by 70%.


	3. Interlude: My Favorite People <3 Group Chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all have been carrying me through this weekend and the start of a very long week. Thank you SO SO SO MUCH for your comments and support.
> 
> I'm working on the next chapter, but here's a little interlude that'll give you some background on where my favorite four ML characters stand and will hopefully tide you over till later this week.

__ Luka sent a photo attachment at 0716 CET  
**Screenshot of a tumblr post that reads: While you were studying the sword… so was I we were in the same class. ** **  
** **Bro did we have sword homework? **

_ Luka (0716 CET)  
_ saw this and thought of you guys 

_ Kagami (0725 CET)  
_ We always have sword homework.

_ Marinette (0725 CET)  
_ I never thought I would hear you complain about sword homework

_ Kagami (0727 CET)  
_ Only when we have 5 am practice

_ Kagami sent a photo attachment (0727 CET)  
_ **A selfie of Adrien and Kagami leaving fencing practice. Adrien looks unusually frumpy with a black hoodie that really brings out the bags under his eyes. Kagami looks similarly tired, with the hood of her red ladybug sweater pulled up. **

_ Marinette (0727 CET)  
_ Aw you two look so tired. Go visit maman and papa for breakfast. 

_ Kagami (0728 CET)  
_ It's so... far.

_ Marinette (0728 CET)  
_ but it'll be free!

_ Kagami (0728 CET)  
_ Don't... care

_ Luka (0730 CET)  
_ Want me to bring you guys something?

_ Adrien sent a photo attachment (0730 CET)  
_ **A gif of a small fuzzy cat holding its front paws together. White text reads "PLEASE"**

_ Kagami (0730 CET)  
_ Luka, if you bring us glorious Dupain-Cheng pastries, you will be my favorite for the week. 

_ Luka (0735 CET)  
_ make it two and you got a deal.

_ Kagami (0735 CET)  
_ Done

_ Adrien (0735 CET)  
_ :(

_ Luka (0735 CET)  
_ We still love you, Adrien

_ Marinette (0741 CET)  
_ I let maman and papa know you need sustenance. They're setting aside your favorites. 

_ Kagami (0741 CET)  
_ Thank you, sweet pastry child.

_ Marinette (0741 CET)  
_ <3

_ Kagami (0741 CET)  
_ WAIT

_ Marinette (0741 CET)  
_ ?

_ Kagami (0742 CET)  
_ MARINETTE DUPAIN CHENG YOU GO TO BED RIGHT NOW

_ Marinette (0742 CET)  
_ ugh but I'm still adjusting

_ Luka (0742 CET)  
_ then come home

_ Marinette (0744 CET)  
_ funny, but no can do. I have work tomorrow

_ Kagami (0744 CET)  
_ Do you mean today

_ Marinette (0744 CET)  
_ yes, today

_ Kagami (0744 CET)  
_ Go to bed 

_ Luka (0744 CET)  
_ go to bed

_ Marinette (0744 CET)  
_ fine

_ Kagami (0805 CET)  
_ I see you liking things on Instagram, don't make me come over there

_ Kagami (0809 CET)  
_ Marinette

_ Kagami (0809 CET)  
_ Go to bed. 

_ Marinette (0819 CET)  
_ Okay, okay. Going for real this time. Love you all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We had ALL the snow. Side note: I always felt like Gotham had some Illinois vibes but apparently it's in New Jersey???? NEW JERSEY???
> 
> Nothing against the state of New Jersey. I was just surprised. 
> 
> Also: my impulse is to have Marinette rely on public transit but she could eventually get a vehicle later. What do you think: motorbike, car, or perpetually on public transit?


	4. A Very Good Idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have discovered that while yes, I am Very Bad at going to bed on time when I'm working on this fic, it also gives me great motivation for getting other things I need to do done!
> 
> Plus, your support and comments really make me so god damn happy. I live for the feedback and you all deliver. So much. I love it. Thank you. You are all truly too kind.

She knew the dream started with something else but she couldn't remember where it began. The second she opened her eyes to her techno explosion alarm (her third one), all she could remember was black veins trailing up Adrien's arm, underneath his shirt, and directly into his face. One eye was already as fragile as overburnt charcol, like it would crumble away if she breathed too hard. His remaining green eye stared at her in shock. His mouth moved but before she could make anything out her alarm had finally jolted her awake.

That wasn't what happened, she reminded herself. Adrien lived. He was getting better. He could even fence reasonably well with the new foil that Kagami, Luka, Marinette had given him almost two years ago. 

It felt so real, her irrational self argued. He could have died. 

Before she could get too deep in the spiral, Tikki called, "Marinette? Are you up?" 

She turned off her alarm and groaned an affirmative. Her breathing was still too shaky to add anything else, so she hoped to play it off as her typical morning grogginess. Staring at the ceiling, she counted backwards from three and forced herself to get up and moving. She went to the bathroom and got ready for the day. 

Tikki beamed at her as she strode into the main room with her hair neatly done up in a high bun. She wore a pair of black slacks—store-bought, she didn't realize how much this new job had her moving and needed time to make her own—along with her handmade white, sunflower-embroidered blouse with a scoop collar. 

"Coffee's done!" the Kwami told her. 

She smiled gratefully and pulled a travel mug out of the cabinet. "What would I do without you, Tikki?"

The ladybug giggled. "You'd be just fine, Marinette. We both know it." 

The woman smiled and shook her head. "Is Plagg okay? Did you get whatever it is you talked about settled?" she asked as she poured herself coffee.

Tikki nodded. "He just wanted to show off his growing collection of filched fridge cheese." 

She scrunched her nose, eyes twinkling with mirth. "He knows I mostly buy the cheese for him, right?" 

"He says it's sweeter if it's stolen," the Kwami informed her, unable to keep the smile off her face, "He also wanted you to check the mint before you left. Something about a weed." 

Marinette rolled her eyes and headed out to the balcony. Plagg, curled up at the base of the catnip, gave her a lazy smile. "Morning, bug." 

"Morning, brat cat. Tikki said you were freaking out about a weed?" 

Indignant, he zoomed over to the pot cradling her peppermint. "One of these days I will be right! Then where will our glorious garden be?" 

Following his paw to the new shoot in the pot, she rolled her eyes. "Well it isn't today. That's just a new sprout. If it keeps growing like this, we'll have to replant soon." She picked up a water bottle from a small shelf and gave the plants a nice misting.

Plagg looked less wary but still unconvinced. "So it's good?" 

"Exactly what we want. I would love to build a stash of peppermint tea for Wayzz." 

The cat god flew up to nuzzle her cheek and boop their noses together. "You're too good to us, bug." 

Her heart melted a little. "Keep an eye on everyone, okay?" 

He gave her another cat kiss. "You two have a good day at work." 

* * *

Damian never had this much coffee. He was starting a second pot in the kitchen, staring at the sunlight streaming through the windows. This was not his thing. This was Tim's thing. He liked to sleep regularly, because tired people make mistakes. Whatever the internet tells you, sleep is not for the weak; it is for the survivors. 

But he needed to know everything about her, that weird bug, and that freaky psychic cat. Through less-than-legal means he had figured out her full name—Marinette Dupain-Cheng—and when she had moved to Gotham—approximately one month ago, with a work visa through Paragon. He hadn't heard of the place, but apparently it was a high-end fashion house that had opened four years ago.

Most other information he acquired through a fair about of internet stalking. She ran an internet boutique for custom clothing designs, but commissions were closed for the time being. The daughter of two Parisian bakers, she had apparently been interested in fashion design all her life. If he hadn't known about her alter-ego, he would be desperately wondering why she had bailed on one of the biggest fashion capitals in the world. 

She had some high-profile praise from rockstar Jagged Stone, model Adrien Agreste, and the band Kitty Section. Agreste set off a red flag. His father, fashion mogol Gabriel, had been sentenced to life in prison for aiding and abetting Hawkmoth. As much as he had dug in internet forums, most fans and press agreed that Adrien had no knowledge of his father's crimes until he was arrested. 

And that line of questioning opened up an entirely different can of worms. French media had covered the reign of Hawkmoth extensively, but the videos were still hard to comprehend. Like he had seen the night before, time and again the Miraculous cure would restore the City of Love to its original state like nothing had happened. Interviews with victims of Hawkmoth seemed to have no memory of their possession, or even what he wanted, while the scarce video of the villain himself showed the man screaming about 'handing over the miraculous.'

Damian wasn't sure what the Miraculous were, but he figured that was the "magic" part of the equation. He had sent messages to some friends about them and hadn't heard back yet. The Ladyblog, a major source for akuma attacks and the Parisian heroes at the time, had attempted some investigative reporting. However, it seemed the person who ran the blog lacked any real experience and just chased the next big headline with no major direction. 

That was another thing that drove him wild. Marinette herself had been on the Ladyblog. Apparently she was close with the creator, at least in the early days. How on earth did she not get caught?

In interviews, Ladybug was clearly the professional of the team. He couldn't say as much for her partner, Chat Noir, who seemed more interested in romance than his duty. What happened to the hero following the defeat of Hawkmoth was unclear—both he and Ladybug vanished without so much as a peep.

Yet another series of questions: Hawkmoth was defeated three years ago. Why resurface now? Why Gotham? Was it just to piss him off?

"You're upset," Cassandra said.

He nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling around to shoot her a heavy-eyed glare. His adopted sister, never bothered by any threats from him anymore, scrutinized him. 

Before she said anything else, Alfred strolled into the kitchen with a cheery, "Good morning."

"Morning, Alfred," Cassandra greeted. Damian nodded and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. 

"I trust you both slept well," the butler said, though he and Cassie both were giving him a bit of a stink eye. "Master Damian, will you still be attending the meeting this morning about the Foundation Ball? Your father and brother were expecting you to join them, as I recall."

Damian had forgotten. "It's just a planning meeting, isn't it?" 

"They're making final decisions for the security measures and you said you wanted to be there," Alfred reminded him. 

His exhausted brain was still catching up with the lapse in planning. "When is it?" 

"We will be departing at 11 a.m." 

It was around 7:30 a.m. Yeah, he could do that. He said as much, returning to his laptop on the kitchen island. 

"Are there more things for today, Alfred?" Cassandra asked and Damian stopped listening. He was working his way through the Agreste court transcript. The man barely started the opening prosecution remarks when the most brilliant idea hit him. 

"I need a new suit," he blurted without any further explanation, bringing Alfred and Cassie's conversation to a screeching halt. "I want to try getting one from Paragon." Alfred, who had faced down weirder requests throughout his service to the Waynes, didn't question it. Cassandra look at him strangely. 

The weight of her gaze was a heavy one. "I've made what Tim would call 'sick gains,'" was his lame explanation. "They have nice options."

"I will arrange an appointment for this afternoon," Alfred assured him. 

"I want to go too," Cassandra told them. 

Damian struggled mightily to hide his displeasure from her. She watched him too carefully and he could tell she was curious now. As the butler left the kitchen to make the appointment, she settled onto the barstool next to him and waited. 

Damian tried to focus on the laptop, angled away from her. Even after all these years of being able to speak, Cassandra knew how to use silence to her advantage. Her lingering gaze was usually enough. 

He snapped first. "What?"

"Will you take a nap?" she asked. 

"I'm fine." He found he couldn't concentrate on court proceedings and pulled up  _ yet another  _ article from the Ladyblog. There were moments of good reporting, but sometimes the author clearly got lost in their excitement. 

Cassandra hummed. "Very tense."

"Well, you're staring at me. It's weird." 

She hummed disbelievingly. "Something bothers you."

"You do." 

"Not me," she insisted and probed again. "The new hero?"

"No," he growled.

"Oh." Her eyes lit up as she smiled. "Jealous." 

Before he could snap back, Alfred stuck his head into the room. "I have made an appointment for this afternoon at 3 p.m., following the meeting." 

"Thanks, Alfred," Cassandra said, still delighted with either her discovery or her teasing. Damian couldn't tell. Alfred waved off the thanks and disappeared upstairs.

"So if you're not jealous…" she thought out loud, "are you scared?"

He snapped the laptop shut. "No, but you know what? I will take that nap." 

She didn't move as he got up and stalked out of the kitchen, but did offer a quiet and smug wish of, "Sleep tight, Damian." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so Cassie is my new obsession. Her backstory is SO TRAGIC. I DEMAND PROTECTION FOR HER. JFC she and Marinette are going to be besties by the end of next chapter if I have anything to say about it. 
> 
> And I do.


	5. A Minor Consultation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my feeling is: Motorcycle Marinette is a go. Or will be. When we get to that point. 
> 
> Who in the Batfam do you most want to see next? I am feeling a slow introduction for everyone.

Marinette hadn't fully gotten used to the oppressive wet heat that came with living so close to the coast. There wasn't much breeze to relieve her walk down to the train station and even standing by a cracked window in the train car didn't help. Stepping into the shade of the skyscrapers downtown did nothing. The mug of coffee in her hand started to look less and less appealing as she walked the four blocks from the station to Paragon. 

Feeling a little gross and sweaty, she opted to go in through the back entrance. One of their suppliers was making a delivery as she passed; she waved and smiled at her boss, Elise, before heading back into their offices. 

She opened the door and immediately felt her heart melt. Falan, her office buddy and fellow junior designer, was sleeping with their head on the desk. Setting her bag in her chair, she kicked the side of Falan's desk. The brunette shifted, their shoulder-length hair becoming more of a tousled mess in their arm pillow. 

"I'm awake," they mumbled. 

"Brought you a pick-me-up," Marinette said, offering them a brown bag. "You said you like cinnamon, right?"

Falan took the bag and peeked inside at the two, streusel-topped muffins. "You are the best."

"One of those are mine," Marinette warned them.

They selected a muffin and handed the bag back to Marinette when she settled at her desk. Their computers were back-to-back, so it was easy for them to easily look up and talk to each other as they needed to. 

"Did you check your email yet? We have a new client coming in," Falan told her before taking a huge bite out of their muffin.

She grimaced as she turned on her computer. "Oh fun. What do you want to bet it's a rush order for the charity ball?" 

"No bet. Wait till you see the client." They were unusually excited about this one; normally Falan only cared about musical and visual artists, so maybe it was a big-name last-minute invite. 

Marinette rolled her eyes. She was still playing catch-up with both Gotham and American celebrities, so she didn't expect it to be anyone she knew. While the computer started up, she checked her planner for the day. 

"Come on, Marinette, I need to gush about this." Falan urged. 

She took a sip of her coffee and finally checked her email. "Cassandra Cain and Damian Wayne?"

"Isn't that wild?" they half-yelled in delight. 

"I have heard of Wayne, who is the other one?" 

Falan launched into an explanation of the local joke that was serial adopter Bruce Wayne. Marinette hummed in amusement with them as she updated her planner; adding details to a dress would be most of her morning, if she was lucky. She could manage a quick meditation break instead of a lunch and then it was resizing another dress for the upcoming gala, followed by shadowing the consultation for the Wayne family. The day should go by quick, she thought with a small smile. She was ready to get out on patrol in the evening, despite her small mishap with the building. 

"Earth to Marinette," Falan interrupted. "Why do you think they're coming here?"

She had no idea and told them as much. Falan pouted, still ready to launch into full gossip speculation mode. Marinette chided them for their distraction and moved to her workstation to get started. 

* * *

Cassandra met him in the lobby of Wayne Enterprises, face impassive in response to his slight frown when he spotted her. Damian had hoped she would change her mind about coming along with him. She pocketed her phone and fell into step with him. 

He didn't expect her to start a conversation and she didn't surprise him with one. This somehow irritated him more than if she had questioned him. Maybe he was being overly paranoid, like she was onto him doing something wrong. Which he wasn't. He was a Wayne and he was careful. 

Still, the silent ride to Paragon grated at his nerves. Would she even be included in the meeting? What if she was too junior or something? How did any of this even work? 

The outside of the store was what he expected based on the website. Floor-to-ceiling glass let in natural light that showed off a variety of men's and women's formalwear interspersed with what he might consider "high" fashion (that is, something that no one would ever wear in public). Overall, the actual show floor was built around neutral and subdued colors—any highlights came from actual clothing. A set of plush couches acted as a waiting area, although there was a large stand in front of several mirrors for show. A cheerful, blonde young man stood up from behind a modern white desk as soon as they opened the door. 

"Welcome to Paragon, Mr. Wayne, Ms. Cain. Please follow me to the back; our lead designer, Elise Odom, is ready for your consultation." 

They followed him down a short hallway and to a small room. A greying woman in her late forties waited on one of the couches. Her once-black hair was artfully curled off to one side and she wore a black, form-fitting dress with an asymmetric cut. She stood as they entered and shook both their hands. "Mr. Wayne, Ms. Cain, I'm Elise Odom. On behalf of the team at Paragon, we are pleased to have you here." She motioned for them to sit on the couch she had just vacated before settling herself on a less comfortable looking chair. 

"Thank you, but there's no need for such formality," Damian told her. "Thank you for taking a meeting on such short notice."

"It's not the shortest notice we've ever had," Elise replied with a smile, "Although I would like to mention that, given the deadline, there will be rush charges should you decide to work with us." 

"Completely understandable," Damian assured her. 

The receptionist reentered carrying a silver tray with two glasses of water and a pitcher. Two more people followed behind him. 

He tried not to tense as she entered the room with another person. Like the night before, her hair was done up in a bun, with small silver clips keeping her bangs away from her face. She met his eyes with clear blue ones for just a second before her eyes meekly went to the floor. 

Elise introduced them. "This is Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Falan Devlin, two of our junior designers; they'll be taking your measurements." She picked up her notebook and flipped it open. "Do you have any preferences on colors, length, or style?" 

Cassandra shook her head. This, at least, Damian had somewhat prepared for. He brought up so specific pieces he had seen on their website. As he spoke, both Falan and Marinette took notes. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, at least as much as he could without look completely suspicious. She didn't look directly at him again, either keeping her eyes on her notepad or on Elise. 

When the designer turned her attention on Cassandra, he studied Marinette more under the guise of watching his adopted sister. Her shoulders were more rounded than her alter-ego's, like she was trying to make herself smaller and more forgettable. 

Elise had her work cut out for her trying to get design ideas out of Cassie. She wasn't particularly talkative to begin with, but asking the assassin turned vigilante for design preferences was like asking a fish how it would go about flying. It wasn't impossible, just difficult. 

"Since this is a black tie event, I would suggest darker colors. How do you feel about purple?" 

"It's fine." 

"Navy?" 

"Sure."

"Okay, so color is not much of any interest to you." Elise pulled open a catalogue and passed it to Cassandra. "How about style? Anything in here spark your interest?" 

His adopted sister took the book and flipped through a few pages. She stared at it impassively. He glanced at Elise, whose composure was beginning to slip. 

"Excuse me," Marinette interrupted, "May I make a suggestion, Ms. Cain, Elise?" He realized, hearing her in English for the first time out of the suit, that she spoke with a slight French accent. That definitely hadn't been the case last night. 

Elise nodded, and the small woman stood up from her seat. She offered Cassandra her notebook. Damian leaned over to get a better look. There were two sketches; one of a sleeveless jumpsuit and the other of a tuxedo with a short jacket featuring peak lapels. They were pretty good sketches for ten minutes of discussion. 

"You didn't seem much interested in our traditional women's formal wear, so I thought something like this might be more to your taste?" 

"This one is nice," Cassie told her, pointing at the jumpsuit. "What are the lines?"

"I was thinking we could do a lace overlay or, if you had a particular preference, we can do an embroidered design of some kind," Marinette told her and Cassie tensed. She rushed to add, "It doesn't have to be anything important, maybe your favorite flower or some kind of homage to an interest you have?" 

"Do I have to decide now?" Cassandra asked. 

"No, of course not," Marinette smiled at her. "Would you like to try on a similar model? Maybe that'll give you some ideas." 

Damian could feel Cassandra relax beside him. Again, he felt strangely annoyed. On one hand, he could maybe get Cassandra to ask her questions. On the other, was everyone in his family just going to immediately let their guard down around this interloper? 

Elise cut in, "Ms. Cain, if you would prefer, Marinette can handle all the details of your outfit."

Cassandra nodded and handed back the notebook to Marinette. With a small bow, she motioned Cassie to stand. "May I take your measurements?" 

They moved off to one side where Marinette walked Cassandra through the process. Damian acknowledged the other designer, Falan, who approached to take his own measurements. Elise excused herself from the room to make some initial clothing selections. 

The rest of the consultation went smoothly, although Damian had stopped caring about the clothes the second he had to leave the room and start trying them on. He changed as quickly as possible to make sure he was in the same room as Marinette as much as possible, for all the good it did him. All he got from Marinette's interaction with Cassandra was that she was sweet, creative, and good at reading emotions. 

And he didn't buy it. 

As soon as they got into the car, Cassandra leaned her head on Damian's shoulder. He figured it was because all the questions made her tired. He frowned. Marinette hadn't looked at his again throughout the rest of the consultation. In fact, she had been avoiding his gaze.

"You're annoyed," Cassandra said as they left downtown. 

"What?" he asked, trying to desperately control his pulse. He wanted to keep this investigation secret. 

"Did you want Marinette do handle your designs?" 

He frowned. Of course she noticed. "It didn't matter to me." 

"She's sweet and you were scaring her." She wrapped her arm around his. "What did she do to upset you?" 

"Nothing," he emphasized. "I'm just tired."

"Suspicion always haunts a guilty mind," she quoted.

He didn't have anything to say to that and she didn't seem to have anything else to add. He leaned back against her and shut his eyes, hoping that it would stay that way.

* * *

"Damian Wayne was totally checking you out," Falan told her as soon as they were in their office. 

Yeah, Marinette thought, he was definitely staring at me way too much. But she wasn't going to say that. "I didn't notice." 

"Marinette. He barely took his eyes off you. Even  _ Elise _ noticed," they sat down at their desk with a heavy sigh, "If I could get someone like him to look at me like that, I would be getting a phone number asap." 

Marinette hummed and flipped open her notebook to the jumpsuit sketch. "Did you decide on a tux?" 

"Oh yeah, like you weren't listening."

She opened her Illustrator program and started to make a more formal outline of the jumpsuit for Cassandra. With luck, she could have it off to her for approval that night. "I really wasn't. I was focused on Ms. Cain." 

"Ugh fine. Yes, he went with a peak lapel jacket, which is something you definitely suggested to his sister, even though he had mentioned a double breast at the beginning." Falan prodded. 

Marinette wasn't going to budge. Yes, he had been staring, she felt the weight of his gaze from across the room. It was why she focused on Cassandra in the first place. She wasn't going to acknowledge it if she didn't have to. "I don't think that means anything." 

"Uh huh. Well, when he comes back, you should totally talk to him." 

She rolled her eyes, "You know, I think I've got enough on my plate already. Why don't you talk to him since you're so interested?"

"Maybe I will!" they shot back. 

She shook her head with a smile and slipped on her headphones. It was time to get to work. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments. They fuel my writing. The more you comment, the easier it is for me to ignore other obligations (aka counting cell colonies) and focus on this.


	6. First Night Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say a slow introduction? Ah, screw it. Finals are in two weeks and I'm stressed. 
> 
> Also, I'm kind of terrible at writing action scenes so any tips/feedback on that would be much appreciated!

Goliath paced the length of the cave, occasionally sniffing a computer here or a desk there, but mostly looking mournfully at Robin. The man frowned at his oldest friend and partner. Titus, face sagging with age, leaned his head on Robin's knee and wagged his tail lazily. He scratched him behind the ears, but his expression didn't lighten. 

"All suited up and ready to go, huh?" Dick walked into the cave, mask on per protocol, but without his suit. "What's got you all upset?"

"I'm waiting for everyone to show up on time," he sighed dramatically, "but I don't think that's going to happen this decade." 

Dick rolled his eyes as he sat down across the conference table from him. "It's not even eight yet." 

"Tt." Robin clicked his teeth. Goliath looked at the exit, back at Damian, and whined again. 

"What's with Goliath?"

Robin didn't reply, instead focusing on giving Titus a good scratch around his collar. At least someone around there knew how to be loyal. Before Dick could pester him more, his father swept into the cave in full uniform. 

"Where's everyone else?" he asked, settling at the head of the table. Cassandra, sans mask but still in her Orphan gear, settled in the seat next to Robin. "No identities in the cave, Orphan." 

She shrugged and pulled it on with a smile, tucking her black bob into her hood before her face completely vanished under the black material. She flipped on her console pulled up what looked like an Interpol dossier on Hawkmoth. Damian half-read over her shoulder, wondering if it had anything else that he had missed. 

It hadn't. 

"You're late," Robin growled as Red Hood and Red Robin barreled into the cave, each one trying to beat the other to the table. 

Red Hood sat down first, but barely. "It's 8:01. Cool it, demon spawn." 

Robin opened his mouth to throw back an insult, but Batman smoothly cut in. "Let's get started. We're meeting Ladybug in an hour and I want to beat her to the station." 

"Yeah, what the hell is up with her?" Red Hood asked. 

"She's suspicious," Robin glowered. 

"I like her," Dick insisted, "She's got some cool powers." 

"Enough," Batman called them to attention. "I won't say I trust her, but everything I have read about her seems to put her on the right side of the law. Which is why she won't be doing anything solo until we get a better measure of how she conducts herself as a hero." 

"Good," Robin spat. 

Batman's eyes narrowed, and Damian felt his stomach drop the second he saw a quirk of a smile on his father's lips. "I'm glad you agree. You'll be working with her tonight."

Impossibly but unpredictably, Robin's frown deepened. A part of him wanted to argue, but another part told him it was the best way to keep an eye on her. And that weird cat thing, if it showed up. He nodded stiffly.

"You'll all take turns and report her behavior to everyone. I'd also like to know what powers her magic, just in case, so pay attention when she casts." They murmured in agreement and Batman moved on to the actual reason he called the meeting. "Riddler's still lying low; but Oracle spotted some chatter that suggests he might be hanging out with Cobblepot and his crew. They're planning something—both of their associates have been seen around abandoned warehouses near the South Channel."

"We should just burn the fucking place to the ground," Red Hood grumbled. 

Batman glared at him before continuing. "Try to stick to recon," he turned his gaze back to Robin, "Especially you and your partner. We don't know what her suit is made of; I'd hate for her to take a bullet on her first night out." 

"Tt." Great, Damian thought, this is just a step up from babysitting. 

"Comms on at all times. Regular updates. You know the drill. Red Hood, Red Robin, you'll cover the rest of the city tonight just in case." Batman stood, "Let's head out." 

* * *

Commissioner Gordon and Batman had an understanding of sorts: if the roof of the Gotham City Police Department was kept as dark as possible, they would drop any tips on criminal organizations in a tucked-away safebox near the stairwell. It helped relieve some of the work of the vigilantes and gave good police officers more opportunities to actually do their job. 

It also made a good regroup location. 

They were twenty minutes early, like Batman had wanted. Robin scanned the buildings around them, focused in the northerly direction of her apartment in Midtown, since he guessed that would be the direction she came from. Red Hood and Red Robin were arguing about something that was probably stupid, Orphan listening on curiously and Nightwing snickering at them. His father waited, still as a statue. 

Orphan spotted her first, about ten minutes before nine. She came swinging in from the south, landing on a building not far from the police department. 

"That can't be a normal yoyo," Red Robin said as she leapt from the roof, catching herself on a lower statue. She released her line and flipped onto the roof. 

"Good evening!" Ladybug greeted with a smile.

Batman nodded to her. "Thank you for being prompt." Before she could say anything else, "Before we get started, this is the rest of the team." He introduced them all in turn, except for Nightwing and Robin, before pulling an earpiece out of his belt. She eyed it warily as he presented it to her. "To keep in touch in case something goes wrong." 

"May I give it back to you at the end of the night?" she asked, slipping it into her ear. "I'm not sure how it will suit the magic." 

He nodded. "We're scouting buildings near the South Channel wharf tonight. You'll be with Robin tonight." She smiled brightly at him before turning her attention back to Batman. "I didn't know to ask, but I would like to know what happened to Hawkmoth." 

She blinked, smile immediately dropping off her face. "We defeated him." 

"Where is he?" Batman pressed.

"I can't tell." She crossed her arms, not so much in defiance but like she was trying to protect herself. "He has been dealt with."

"You've said." Nightwing seemed to be catching on to the line of questioning. "But  _ how _ did you take care of him?" 

"I took his power away. He's gone," she insisted, "If this is about whether or not I'm—,"

"What was left?" Batman growled. 

She didn't flinch under the full weight of Batman's hard voice. Instead, her gaze sharpened like daggers. "Nothing worth calling human," she bit out, quiet rage overtaking her face. 

"Did you kill him?" Orphan asked from behind her. 

All at once, the anger fell away to reveal shock. "What? No, of course not. It would have made things so much worse." 

"So you let him go free?" Robin snapped. 

She shook her head. "He is incarcerated, just not as Hawkmoth." Batman opened his mouth to ask for more details, but she interrupted him. "I made a deal and I intend to keep it. I won't say anything more than that." Ladybug's mouth was set to a firm line. "He made his choices and he is dealing with the consequences." Again, a ghost of rage shadowed her face. 

"That's not—," Robin started before Batman cut him off. 

"We'll discuss this at a later date. Drop it for now, Robin."

"Tt." He was not going to drop it, but he pretended to. 

"Head out," Batman commanded. The rest of the team disappeared into the night, leaving Ladybug and Robin alone on the roof. 

"Comm check," Nightwing buzzed in. They all sounded off, Ladybug last. A female voice on the other end confirmed they sounded good, startling the spotted hero. 

"Let's go," Robin told her, "Oracle, switch our team to channel two and butt out." 

"Switching over now. Be nice, brat," Oracle chided from the other end of the line. "I hope to meet you soon, Ladybug," she added before cutting out. 

Ladybug seemed to be content with Robin to lead the conversation. She could see the tension in his face and shoulders as soon as his team had left them alone. "Ground rules," he told her, "Stay quiet, don't get involved unless I tell you. This is a reconnaissance mission only."

"Got it."

"And no idle chatter," he added. 

She nodded, "Just one question: where is Goliath?" 

Robin frowned. "At home," he told her. He unclipped his hook from his belt leapt off the building. She followed him without another word. He could hear her quiet exhales through his communication device as she swung behind him. A few times she jumped to a building ahead of him, stopping on a roof or dangling from a balcony to wait to see where he went. He didn't know how well she knew the city, but he had a sinking feeling that she would easily win a race through the city even if she didn't know where she was going. She was clearly waiting for him to catch up and it pissed him off. 

When they reached the series of warehouses surrounding the South Channel docks, he called her in close. She obeyed without hesitation, quietly falling into step behind him. He was at war with himself: on the one hand, he appreciated her professionalism, but on the other he just wanted a reason to blow up and throw her off the team. 

They entered through an open window in one warehouse. The place clearly hadn't been used in a while—the main floor was empty save for a few crate pallets. Ladybug stayed close behind him, never close enough to trip him up, but close enough that they could speak quietly as needed. He led them into the second-floor office space for the warehouse and motioned for her to check the rooms. She nodded and moved to the other end of the hallway to start her search. 

Mind now on the mission, Robin did a sweep of his side of the corridor. Most of the rooms were filled with dust, cobwebs, and old garbage from bygone squatters. On her side of the hallway, Ladybug seemed to be more cautious about her approach; using her yoyo compact as a mirror to check before entering. She kept her face calm, but her heart threatened to beat a hole through her chest. Even though the rooms were empty, the exhilaration of the unknown was back.

They moved methodically through the warehouse, hallway by hallway. She caught Robin peeking into the rooms she had checked, but he wasn't outright redoing her work. Once they cleared them all, they went downstairs.

One thing he had to give her: she was quiet and didn't complain. He slowly began to pick up the pace and she adjusted accordingly. They moved on to another building, where they found more evidence of people squatting. They looked like leftovers from winter—it was too hot to stay inside those uncooled buildings in the summer. Marinette's heart twisted a little when she stumbled on a makeshift bed that had been carefully hidden behind a pallet. The space was so small that only a child could have been responsible for it. She made sure that the boxes covered it where put back in place and promised to come back when the weather turned. 

They were halfway through the next building before Ladybug heard voices downstairs. "Robin, someone's talking," she breathed, "Below." 

He joined her in the hallway and strained his ears. He could pick out at least three distinct voices. Damian jerked his head toward the stairs in a bid for her to follow. The whisper of her footfalls, already quiet, vanished even in a difficult stairwell environment and he was grudgingly impressed. 

"—and that's all I got from the game setup. Sure there's more, but the payout should be sweet," one voice was saying once they got in close enough. 

"Riddler has some balls tryin' this so soon out of Arkham," another joked.

"He has balls messing with him at all," a third said, "Enough work. It's bad enough I have to be here."

The second didn't mind the push to change the subject. "How's your girl, Robbie?" he asked suggestively.

"Oh she's nunya," the first said as they creeped up to the door to their hideout.

"Don't do it," the second warned with a laugh. 

"NUNYA BUSINESS." 

There were groans and scuffle inside. He crouched and peered into the room. There were four men; sitting among a mess of junk food wrappers, bottles of water, and a small television. It was muted, playing a rerun of last night's baseball game. The first two speakers were wrestling while the third watched on in clear exasperation. 

They waited for the conversation to turn back to whatever the 'game' was, but it didn't look like they were interested in skirting the topic again. Peering periodically into the room, Robin noted that the quiet one seemed to be more interested in his phone than the game. The other three eventually settled into a salt session about the Gotham Knights and their dismal performance this season. 

Ladybug showed no sign of impatience; she was content to wait it out. Sure, she was bored, but this was her first night on official investigation and she would absolutely not act like a brat. Robin, on the other hand, was ready to get a move on. He motioned for her to stay. When she nodded, he emphasized again that she would stay right there. She ducked her head to hide a little smile and leaned back against the wall as if to say she wasn't going to go anywhere. 

He slipped into the room like a ghost while their attention was on the television and went straight for the man on his phone. He swiftly punched him in the throat and threw him into the other three goons. The men cried out in rage. 

"What's this I hear about the Riddler?" Robin asked as casual as coming into a coffee shop. 

"Get 'im!" one of the men on the bottom, the one with the girlfriend, yelled. Robin chanced a quick look at the door. He caught the barest hint of black bangs, but Ladybug seemed to be following his orders. 

Marinette watched as he ducked and weaved between the flailing limbs and wild swings. They looked like children learning how to walk at an Olympic race. His cape drew out his movements, following him like a slow motion shadow as he leapt into a punch or twisted into a sweeping side kick. She wondered if anyone had ever tried to use it against him in a fight or if he had some kind of quick release mechanism to prevent it. 

Robin took down the phone guy with a decisive knee to the gut. The one who teased the girlfriend guy let out a strangled cry as he grappled the vigilante from behind. He diverted his attention to the man. Ladybug hesitated, wondering if she should jump in.

And then she saw the gun. 

"Lucky charm," escaped her lips as she dove into the room, delivering a swift blow to the jaw of the one who didn't want to talk about work. He dropped like a stone, but she didn't stop to admire her handiwork as the gun safety clicked off and a bullet was chambered. 

Robin and the man he struggled against both heard the shot before they knew what was going on. The bullet buried itself into the insulation behind both their heads, but Robin recovered first. He headbutted the goon with the back of his skull and flipped the man over his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ladybug knock the gun out of the man's hand and wrap his arm up in.. duct tape? 

She bent the man's trapped arm up over his shoulder, forcing him down to the ground and pulling the tape around his torso to bind his other arm. Marinette grinned—Lucky Charm duct tape rolled out as smooth as ribbon but seemed to know how tight it needed to be to keep him from escaping. She would have to thank Tikki later. 

Robin stared at the heroine and their only conscious witness. She easily led the man to his knees before looking back at Robin with that stupid smile. Blood trickled down her cheekbone, a bullet graze that went from around her nose to the bottom of her mask. 

"I told you to stay put," he growled. She didn't seem to notice when the blood dripped onto the shoulder of her suit, disappearing into the red fabric. 

"You were going to get shot," she said by way of explanation and apology. 

He tapped his cheek. "So you took it instead?" 

She frowned and dabbed the blood. It smeared across her fingers as she checked her mask. "Huh. Guess it's just my face that's unprotected." Ladybug wiped her arm across her cheek. 

"Who the hell are you?" her captive asked. 

Robin swiftly kicked him in the groin. The man curled up with a wheeze, head on the floor as he struggled to breathe. "Use your cure thing," he ordered. 

"Not yet. Question him first." She stepped back to give him the floor, pressing her wrist to the wound. 

He glared at her one last time before turning his attention to their captive. Robin grabbed his hair and pulled the man up to look at him. He growled in an imitation of his father's voice, "You better start talking about what the Riddler is up to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys make my heart so happy. Every comment you leave literally gets me to open up my doc and add notes or new paragraphs. For real. You keep me going.


	7. Communication, Communication, Communication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I survived my exams for my first semester of grad school, got my BSL-3 training out of the way, officially have access to our DANGER lab all by myself, and basically fucked off for a month and a half because I was exhausted. Sorry about not updating (but not sorry cause I needed sleep). 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your comments and kudos. They really do keep me going. And they will certainly help, because this month is going to be WILD and I'm probably going to be wishing for death soon. 
> 
> This is a bit of a chatty chapter (I will not apologize for dialogue), but I have a couple of build-up scenes that need to happen before we have out first villain encounter. 
> 
> French is in "_italics_."

The interrogation was… unhelpful. The businesslike beating that Robin administered with cold precision did nothing more than cause the man to babble more about how it was a paying gig, you know how hard those are to come by, pretty sure they're targeting Batman but we don't have specifics we were just told to wait here to see if anyone showed up. The babbling didn't displease him so much as the lack of information. His impatience had revealed their investigation for nothing. Annoyed, he finally ordered Ladybug to do her magic. They released the man from her spotted duct tape and rebound his hands with zip ties like the others. While the men hadn't done anything too illegal—yet—they weren't worth the trouble of dragging down to the police station for squatting that GCPD didn't care about.

Damian let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding as the little red bugs swirled around Ladybug's cheek and erased any trace of blood. The bugs flew at him too, easily breezing by his attempts at waving them off. The dull ache in his skull from the headbutt and the beginnings of bruises from the fight eased. 

He didn't have much time to be impressed, since the groaning men around them started to move a little too much for his liking. 

"Time to go?" she asked. 

"Time to go," he agreed, leading the way back through the corridor and out of the building. Robin stopped briefly outside to look for a quick escape. Ladybug didn't miss a beat—she wrapped a surprisingly strong arm around his waist and swung them up to an adjacent warehouse. He barely tempered an impulse to escape her hold while biting back a shout of surprise. It's one thing to have control of yourself when propelling through the air and a completely different experience being carried. (Goliath didn't count.) 

She released him the second they were steady and ducked low against the roof, watching the door to see if the men followed. 

Robin stood, knowing his was little more than a dark silhouette against an even darker night sky, and glowered at the heroine. When she didn't seem to bother looking back, he finally said, "Don't ever do that again."

She looked up at him, eyes surprisingly bright. "Sorry," she whispered with a sheepish grin. "It looked like you were looking for a quick exit and I had one." 

Ladybug was right and they both knew it. He crouched next to her to watch the door. "I could hurt you if you surprise me. It's for your own safety," he reasoned. 

"I'll warn you next time," she promised. 

"See that you do." 

He switched to the open channel to ask Oracle to monitor outgoing calls on the local cell tower and to update the rest of their team with their position and status. They settled in for a wait on Batman's orders to see if they made any more moves. 

As they watched, Marinette tried to find a way to release the nervous energy from her first real fight in years without looking like she was bored. She picked herself off the roof, leaning a little further behind Robin's field of vision to examine the work of his hooded cape. The stitching was thick, indicating either bad craftsmanship or a heavy material. She guessed it was more about the material. Now that she was paying attention, she could see the faintest of outlines for a knife just below his neck. 

"Stop staring at my neck," Robin ordered finally. It gratified him that she jumped a little. 

She flushed under the mask. "Sorry. Professional curiosity."

"About?" 

"Your cape. Do you have some kind of release mechanism in case someone tries to use it against you?" 

Of course she would ask about his clothes. Still watching the warehouse, he replied, "Of course."

"Do you make your own uniforms?" she asked, drawing level to him again. He chanced a look at her. Her eyes were fixed on the warehouse, but he could see a little tremor in her hand. 

"Trade secret. Do you make yours?" he fired back. 

"I wish. But it's magic." 

"How does it work?" 

She looked at him now. He turned his gaze back to the warehouse while he waited for her response. After several long seconds, she said, "It's dangerous to know, so it's better if you didn't."

"Speaking of dangerous, do you know anything about Leviathan?" he asked before he fully considered what he would do if she said yes. 

She shook her head in his periphery. "Does it have something to do with the Riddler?" 

"No," he told her, swallowing the follow up question about whether or not she could see death on him. 

He almost fell off the building when a beep from her direction startled him.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded. 

"Batman or Nightwing didn't tell you?" she asked, "My power has a time limit when I use Lucky Charm."

They did not, but when he got back to the Batcave they would be having words. "Explain."

"I have fifty minutes to get somewhere safe to detransform and recharge." She glanced over her shoulder. "Which isn't too difficult, given our surroundings." 

Well, at least now he had the beginnings of a plan to take her out if she became a problem. "How long does it take?" he asked. 

She shrugged. "Not long." 

"How does it work?" 

Her face incredulous, she smiled and turned back to the warehouse. "Are we going anywhere anytime soon?" 

He shook his head, settling in a more comfortable seat on the rooftop.

"Then I'll be back." 

He grunted in acceptance and tracked her as she leapt off the building, yoyo wrapping around a crane near the port. She vanished quicker than he wanted to admit.

The rest of the night bore nothing. Ladybug returned in seven minutes and 42 seconds (he checked). They sat in professional silence until Batman rounded up the team for the night. 

A message from Adrien waited for her when she got home at around two in the morning. He had sent it hours ago, asking for her to call him when she woke up. Tikki and Plagg shooed her off to bed before she could fall down the internet hole. Marinette fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. 

* * *

Cassandra lounged on the large bed, scrolling through something on her phone. This was a problem for two reasons. First, it was  _ his _ bed and he was exhausted. Second, she had the gall to not even look at him when he walked in. 

"I'm not in the mood Cass," Damian growled. 

She hummed her indifference as he stalked into the room and loomed over her. Damian sized her up, trying to calculate the throw that would most likely catch her off-guard. She still scrolled through her phone, the picture of calm. He knew the second he made a move she would have the upper hand. There was no denying who was better in a hand-to-hand fight—it took a lot to catch Cass unaware and, even though her focus seemed to be on her phone, he could feel her attention like normal people felt shadows watching them on particularly dark nights. 

But attempting something would force her to move. Damian really wanted to go to bed, consequences be damned. Trying to think as little as possible, he lunged for her phone arm, figuring it was the safest bet. Her arm was gone and he fell backwards thanks to a balance-upsetting fist in the gut. 

Damian didn't bother catching himself. He tucked his chin and fell on the plush carpet, not even bothering to slap out the weight to distribute his fall. Cass was now sitting on the edge of his bed and looking right at him, so he figured it was the best win he could get. 

"Cass, I'm exhausted."

She nodded.

"Really, really, really tired."

She nodded again. 

"What do you want?"

"Tell me about Marinette," she commanded. 

There was a steel in her voice that he didn't appreciate, making him dig in his heels. "Who?"

She kicked him in the shin harder than necessary. Damian bit back a yelp. "Creeper," she accused. 

"It's an  _ investigation _ , Cass," he growled, upset that she would accuse him of something like that. 

The assassin-turned-vigilante considered him for a second, face unreadable. Then she nodded in approval. "She's the new hero, right?"

Thrown off by the sudden change in her demeanor, he nodded dumbly. "I just wanted to make sure she wasn't going to turn on us." 

Cass nodded again and offered him a hand up. He took it and she lifted him like he weighed nothing, even though he had to be at least forty pounds heavier. She patted him on the shoulder and said, "Sorry." 

"It's fine. Can I go to bed now?"

"I'll watch too," she said, heading for the door. He didn't bother even pretending to get out pajamas; he crawled under the covers without another word. Damian could hear the smile in her voice as she switch off the light and bid him a soft, "Sleep well, brother." 

* * *

Adrien sounded as tired as she felt when he answered her call, even though it was well into the afternoon in Paris.

" _ Morning, buginette _ ." 

" _ Afternoon, chaton. Are you doing okay? _ "

He was silent for a moment. Marinette listened to his unsteady breathing in her earphones as he gathered his thoughts. She double checked her apartment door was locked. 

Finally, he said, " _ I know you don't want us rushing over to visit before you're settled in, but I need to know where you are. Just the city. Just so I can know you're safe. _ " 

She gave him a few seconds to add to his case. When nothing came, she laughed nervously. " _ I'm worried you'll be mad at me. _ "

" _ Never, buginette _ ," he assured her. 

She suppressed a groan as the morning humidity washed over her. It was going to be another hot day. " _ Okay, I don't want Kagami to be mad at me. _ "

He laughed, a little tension going out of his voice. " _ She won't get mad at you for moving anywhere. _ "

" _ I'm not so sure, _ " she said, falling into step with people heading to the train station. 

" _ Okay, compromise. How about the state you're in? _ "

She sighed. " _ Promise to keep it to yourself, chaton? I'll send you all invites next month, I promise. You can come with Maman and Papa. _ "

" _ Promise, m'lady _ ." 

" _ I'm in New Jersey. _ " 

His bark of laughter made her jump. " _ What's wrong with New Jersey? _ "

" _ Nothing! _ " she rushed to assure him. " _ You know how Kagami is—she'll find the worst thing about this place and pester me about going back to Paris. _ "

Tikki, curled up in the collar of her blouse, muttered "She's already doing that." 

" _ Fine, fine. This cat'll hold his tongue till next month. _ "

" _ Thank you, chaton. You're the best. _ "

" _ I miss you, Marinette. _ " Her heart squeezed at the sincerity of his voice.

" _ I miss you too, Adrien _ ." She moved off to the side of the station entrance. " _ Look, how about we video chat this weekend? _ "

" _ I'd love that _ ," he purred. " _ I love you. _ "

" _ I love you too. I'll text you later, okay? _ "

"Talk to you later," he told her in English, his voice just as sweet as it was in their native tongue. "Bye."

She let him hang up before heading into the station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is going to see/has seen Birds of Prey? My tumblr sphere is not pleased with the commercial depictions of Cass, so I'm a little up in the air on it. 
> 
> Also, is anyone watching the animated Harley Quinn?? PLEASE SCREAM AT ME ABOUT IT. 
> 
> Also also, if you have not watched the MLB reanimate collab, PLEASE DO IT IMMEDIATELY. It is incredible.


	8. The First Fitting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check it out. Two updates in one month(ish). How's everyone doing? I am in the lab at 7 am each morning for the next week and I definitely haven't done significant work for the major presentation that I have to give in two weeks. 
> 
> I'm gonna die. Please leave me comments and kudos to keep me alive through the next chapter.

Marinette did her best not to go blind as she laid out the pattern for a tiger made out of coxcombs. It was an ambitious pattern, but the six-word approval she had gotten from Ms. Cain felt more important than a several-paragraph gush from previous clients. 

_ It is truly beautiful. Thank you _ , she wrote. Based on her brief interaction with the older woman, Marinette got the impression that words were incredibly important to her. The strange interest of Mr. Wayne (mostly) forgotten, she dove into preparing her pattern from the vector file she had sent before her first patrol. 

She vaguely registered Falan getting into the office. They had quickly understood Marinette's focus could be fleeting and wouldn't interrupt her when it looked like she was busy. It was one of the reasons Marinette was so keen to become quick friends with Falan. About forty minutes into the work day, Marinette leaned back and stretched.

"Morning," Falan greeted. 

"Good morning," she hummed in response. "How's your day look?" 

"There shouldn't be many adjustments to the Wayne tux—Kitty is handling them today and I should be doing final checks this afternoon," Falan said before groaning and putting their head back on the desk. "I'm back on the Chase order." 

Marinette grimaced. The Chase order had been their demon client of the month; a bridezilla who was incredibly particular about the attire for her eighteen bridesmaids. At least her family had the foresight (or experience) to go shopping early—at least the wedding itself was still eight months out. 

"I would ask to trade, but I would much rather deal with her than  _ that _ ." Falan commented as they stood to inspect the pinned pattern. "You know this is due next week." 

Marinette grinned widely. "I'm a glutton for impossible tasks. It'll give Kitty a good opportunity to at least get an idea of what it looks like too." Kitty, the apprentice to their seamstress, had been pestering Marinette about the technique since she had learned it was in Marinette's toolkit. It kind of reminded her of her early college days when she was chasing down any fashion connections to pick up tricks.

"Good luck," Falan laughed. "I'll send her over when she gets a moment." 

"Thanks," Her break timer went off. She rolled out her shoulders and got back to work.

The rest of the morning went by in a rhythm of twist, pin, cover. She vaguely remembered Falan and Kitty coming in to check on her work sometime before lunch; but she was in the middle of a particularly tricky part and didn't even try to talk to them. Twist, pin, cover. They spoke quietly, probably about whether or not they should bother her. Twist, pin, cover. By the time she remembered it would probably be good manners to tell them that she was in a really difficult spot, they were gone. 

Twist, pin, cover. Bit by bit the tiger's ears were beginning to take shape, just off where the shoulder would be. Twist, pin, cover. Was it bad that she told Adrien she lived in New Jersey now? Twist, pin, cover. He wouldn't try to guess which city she was in, would he? Twist, pin, cover. Tikki vaguely mentioned she was clenching her jaw and her body relaxed without further command. Twist, pin, cover. She definitely ignored the part where Tikki mentioned lunch. Twist, pin, cover. It was nice to go to bed and actually feel tired. 

Twist, pin, cover. Twist, pin, cover. Twist, pin—

"Marinette!" Falan shouted in her ear, almost earning them a slap in the face. She screamed and her bobbins went flying. "Woah!"

"Sorry, sorry," Falan said, holding up a brown paper bag as a peace offering. "It's almost two. You should eat." 

"Oh, is it really that late?" she asked. She tried to resettle the bobbins, but Falan stopped her. 

"Take a break, hon." They pulled her out of her chair at her workstation. "Go get some air or I'll sic Elise on you." 

Marinette took the bagged lunch—a sandwich from a deli nearby—and breathed out. "Thanks, Falan. Sorry about the scare." 

They laughed and waved her off. "Bring me breakfast tomorrow and we're even." 

She felt Tikki slip into her jacket collar as they left the building. 

"Really, Marinette, you should take breaks more often," the little god chided. 

"It was really soothing though," she said quietly, making her way to a nearby park.

She could feel Tikki's frown even though she couldn't see it. "It didn't seem like it." 

Marinette stifled a giggle. "I'll set timers after lunch, okay?" 

"I'll believe it when I see it," Tikki promised. 

* * *

Robin made no mention of the fight last night. That seemed to stay between them, but she assumed they talked about her privately. Batman handed her the communication device and told her that her night's patrol was with Orphan. 

Ladybug hadn't gotten much from their brief introduction the night before; but she was curious about her costume. It was similar to the other Bats—predominantly black, utility belt, highlighted with gold—but distinct in the lack of tights and bat symbolism. Her pants were loose, to obscure movement, while her mask covered every feature on her face except for her eyes. The seam connecting the fabric to her earless cowl was haphazardly and obviously cross-stitched. Marinette wondered if she had added it herself. They waited for the rest of the crew to leave like the night before. Orphan didn't seem interested in talking. Instead, she waved Ladybug to follow her and took off into the night. 

Even with her yoyo and magic, Marinette had a harder time keeping up with her than with Robin. Orphan possessed a wild grace that vaguely reminded her of Chat in their later days, when he had gotten a little more control over his powers and experience in tougher combat. 

But she was so much more. In the brief glimpses she caught of Orphan's movements—when she wasn't completely focused on keeping up—Ladybug saw the incredible control she had over her muscles. Enviously, she imagined the hero could go on for hours without breaking a sweat. Marinette wasn't sure where they were in the city anymore, just that it was creepier than where she would go as a civilian. Orphan suddenly came to a halt on a rooftop overlooking a particular dingy alley. She barely avoided overshooting the building.

"Good," Orphan told her and then pointed below, "Stay. Watch." 

Ladybug nodded and settled into a crouch. A woman and a man were in the middle of a heated exchange below, their harsh whispers turning into meaningless noise as it echoed in the alley. Orphan leapt to the next building over, silent as a shadow. The woman shoved the man. In a flash, Orphan caught his arm to keep him from falling. 

"Hi," she said. The two people froze. The vigilante held out a hand expectantly. 

"What do you want?" the woman asked. 

"You can go. Don't be stupid again," she told the man, releasing his arm. He bolted out of the alley to the brighter main street. "Give it," Orphan ordered. 

"It's mine," the woman said, even though her voice quivered. "I need it for protection."

Ladybug blinked and she missed what happened. The woman was on the ground, clutching her throat and wheezing. Orphan held a gun in her hand. 

"What's his name?" she asked, more to the gun than the woman. 

"I don't," the woman coughed and took a shuddering breath, "know what you're talking about." 

"Your husband," Orphan said simply. She crushed the gun between her fists. Metal and plastic scattered across the concrete. "Don't let me ask again." 

"Stefan Melker," the woman conceded, "You don't have any proof of anything." 

"Ok," the vigilante knelt to get close. Ladybug strained to hear her. "If he doesn't live, you're in trouble." 

"Accidents happen," the belligerent woman snarled. 

"Better not," Orphan warned. She then punched the woman in the nose. Even from her position on the roof, Ladybug heard the bone crack. The woman screamed. 

The vigilante scaled the roof quickly and jerked her head at Ladybug to follow. Over their communications device, she heard Orphan ask, "Did you understand?" 

"Was she trying to kill her husband?" Ladybug heard how winded her own voice sounded. Even after the rest, Orphan's pace was incredibly fast.

"Yes, good. Oracle?" she asked. 

The mysterious voice over the comms came alive. "I'll keep tabs on him." 

"Thanks." Orphan stopped ahead of Ladybug. "Your turn next." She skidded to a halt, following the vigilante's gesture to a mugging in progress below. "Show me what you can do." 

The rest of the night was pretty straightforward. Orphan moved through the city like she had known the streets her whole life. She spoke in short sentences, but was friendly enough. Ladybug felt her eyes on her as she dispatched robbers and broke up life-or-death struggles. When Orphan jumped into the fray, she always went for the most lethal weapon in the fight. Although her blows looked excruciatingly painful, every person she fought with was still at least partially conscious. Marinette was envious of the control she had over her hits. 

A little after two in the morning, Ladybug handed over her communications device to Orphan. "You're incredible," she told the vigilante. 

The way her eyes crinkled behind her mask told Ladybug two things: first, Orphan knew she was the best and, second, she still appreciated the compliment. 

"Good job." Though they were about the same height, Orphan reached over and ruffled her bangs. "You learn well." 

"Thanks," Ladybug said. "See you tomorrow night." 

* * *

Their return to Paragon immediately soured Damian's mood. Falan and an assistant seamstress met him at the front, leading him back to the fitting room alone while leaving Cassandra in the front to wait for Marinette. The shaking of the young assistant even as she took notes grated at his nerves. He knew he was short with Falan, who remained cheerful despite his terse responses. The tuxedo was fine. Yes, the shoulders were a little tight. Thank you for expeditious work. 

Despite the seamstress' jitters, Falan kept their cool. They didn't step over any boundaries, understanding Damian's mood was foul. At the end of the fitting, Falan sent the seamstress away, which he was thankful for. 

"Would you like to check in on Ms. Cain's fitting?" they asked.

He paused, trying to maintain a mask of indifference. "Yes, than you." Finally, he was getting somewhere. The designer led him down a sparsely-decorated hallway and knocked on a door. Marinette called them in. She waited inside alone—Cassandra was in the dressing room. 

"I'll leave you to it. Ms. Odom will be here to discuss final fittings and any other feedback you have at the end of the appointment." Falan told him. Damian nodded and settled himself in a chair near the empty podium. He pretended not to notice the glare Marinette shot Falan and the smirk of her coworker as they left the room. 

Silence stretched. Marinette looked everywhere but at him, waiting quietly. He studied her face, not caring that he was openly staring. Even if he hadn't seen her transform, he would have guessed by now that she was doing something secret on the side. Her makeup didn't quite hide the bags under her eyes. For all that she looked tired, though, her gaze on her notepad in front of her was sharp. 

"Your accent. French?" he finally asked. 

She jumped a little at his question. Putting on her best customer service smile, she said, "Yes, Mr. Wayne." Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Where from?" 

She looked away. "Paris." 

"It's a beautiful city," he said, "I can't imagine why a talented designer would ever want to leave," he added casually. 

"You're too kind," she told him. "This is a wonderful house to work for. I am enjoying the different perspective here." 

He shifted tactics. "It takes a lot of courage to move to a place like Gotham." 

Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "I don't understand." 

"The crime," he clarified. 

She hummed noncommittally. "Every city has a dark side." 

"Even Paris?" he pressed. 

"I should check on Ms. Cain," she stood. "Excuse me." 

"Cass is probably fine. She gets distracted by little things sometimes," he told her. She stopped mid-stride toward the door. 

Marinette's smile curled again, even as her eyes hardened. "It is my duty to see to my client."

He didn't make a move to stop her. Marinette opened the door and left. Damian waited. He guessed that Cass had given him some extra time to talk. Sure enough, he could hear Marinette exclaim when she ran into his sister in the hallway. 

They returned to the room. Cassandra looked poised in the black jumpsuit, more so than she usually did. It was floor-length with a little drag. He watched her tug fabric this way and that, pinning the jumpsuit to a better fit. Marinette was still tense, but she slipped into design-mode. Finally, she asked Cass to look at herself in the mirror. 

"I know it's only half," Marinette told her, "but please let me know if there is anything you find uncomfortable."

Cassandra turned this way and that, before nodding in content. "Thanks," she told the designer.

"My pleasure. Do you need help undressing? Those pins can be tricky." Marinette offered. Damian tried to ignore the quiet plea in her voice. 

Cass shook her head. "No. I got it," she stepped off the dias and out of the room. Marinette turned her back to Damian to make a few notes on her notebook.

Her hair was staring at him. 

Face as impassive as he could manage, he studied the red bug that glared at him from inside Marinette's bun. The creature's brow crinkled in distaste, eyes narrowing threateningly as he returned its gaze. He wondered if it talked to the cat thing. The bug raised a flipper to its eye, pointed at him, and pointed back to its eye. Damian looked away. He couldn't decide if it was a threat or a warning. 

He glanced back, but the bug was gone. 

"Do you like living in Gotham?" he asked. 

She stopped writing but didn't turn around. "I do," she said. "Though I haven't found a good bakery yet." 

There—a chance to talk more. "I don't know about bakeries, but I do know a good coffee place nearby that has local pastries." 

She turned, her blue eyes narrowed in confusion. 

"If you'd like to come with me," he specified.

Marinette squared her shoulders. A sense of understanding washed over her face. "Thank you, but that would be inappropriate." Before he could come up with something else to say, she walked out of the room with a quiet, "Excuse me." 

He waited for several long minutes. Cass returned, without her jumpsuit, staring at him oddly. Damian wondered if she was going to chew him out again. Instead, she sat on the couch next to him and waited. 

Ms. Odom returned instead of Marinette. She made no mention of the designer's absence, instead launching into a series of questions about their feelings over the formalwear. Damian answered simply, although Cass said more than expected about the overlay Marinette was working on. Ms. Odom looked pleased with the feedback and promised to pass on the praise.

They left after scheduling another appointment over Monday. Damian and Cass were both quiet as they got into the car. Alfred took note of their silence and made no attempt at chatter as they drove home. 

Marinette, on the other hand, marched straight back to her office to strangle Falan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I graduate in less than three months. I'm job hunting right now. I am S U P E R stressed. Thank you all for your comments and feedback, they really keep me going during this chaotic time in my life.
> 
> UPDATE: I drew the hair staring part, which you can find on my tumblr, @alycesaysno.


	9. Overstepping Boundaries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY COMMITTEE ACCEPTED MY PAPER!!!! I am almost done with my master's degree!!!! Anyway, big surprise, my entire research schedule got upended because, you know, pandemic. So now I'm home and getting used to online classes but that means I have more time for writing! Good news: I have a job lined up for after graduation. Even better news: It's at a hospital research lab (omg I'm so excited). Even BETTER news: I'm gonna be growing human lungs which is fucking wild. The BEST news: They're starting a COVID-19 research project, so that's going to be my life for the next couple of months and I'm out of my mind ready to start contributing to research that can help increase our understanding of the virus. 
> 
> THAT SAID: Hey guys, I'm an actual microbiologist. If you have any questions about the outbreak at all, feel free to message me. This is a really stressful time and if you need to pepper someone with questions, I'm here to answer them calmly and honestly. I won't judge you for asking anything.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter. Please stay healthy, stay safe, wash your hands, and STAY THE HECK AT HOME.

Falan had been over the moon when she told them that Damian Wayne had asked her out for coffee, even though Marinette stressed more than once she wasn't interested in establishing a personal relationship with the mysterious son of a business tycoon and once-famed playboy. 

"Marinette. You're missing the point," Falan slung an arm over her shoulder, "You don't have to date him long. Just think of the incredible connections they have!" 

"I have connections," she muttered.

"Yes, I know, but connections are a numbers game and you know it." 

"I don't think the Waynes would appreciate me mining them for connections," she countered. 

"He asked you. Maybe he wants to be mined," Falan grinned. 

"What—," Marinette's face flushed a few seconds later, a little late on understanding the innuendo. She shook them off and backed away. "No. Nononono." 

"You are talented, sexy, and single." Her coworker told her. "Anyone would  _ KILL  _ to date you."

Marinette took a deep breath through the nose. "I just moved here. This is not the time to start a relationship." 

"So you are interested," Falan teased. 

She rounded on them, grabbing their shoulder to lean them down to her height. "Falan." The serious voice and strong grip prevented any interruption. "I'm going to say this one last time. I appreciate what you're trying to do, but Damian Wayne makes me uncomfortable. Please stop."

Falan blinked once, guilty green eyes striking a painful memory in the back of Marinette's mind. "I'm sorry, I didn't think it was that bad," they told her quietly.

She loosened her grip and gave them a friendly pat on their shoulder. "It's alright. I promise when I am interested in a relationship I will let you know." 

Falan brightened. "Oh good. You free tonight? I'm meeting some old college buddies for dinner. They're dying to meet my new work bestie." 

Marinette shook her head as she gathered up her things. " _ Maman _ and  _ Papa  _ are calling me tonight; some other time, definitely." It wasn't a total lie: her parents were going to call before they started at the bakery. She just had other plans following their brief hello. "See you Monday!" 

The commute home was nice, despite the hot weather. Tikki seemed to be in a good mood, humming quiet nonsense in her ear. The railcar wasn't packed, which was surprising for a Friday night. She sat near a door with a cracked window, enjoying the air while the train rumbled toward her station. A toddler playing with a stuffed monkey caught her eye and gave her a gap-toothed grin. Once she got home, her parents showed off some seriously scrumptious-looking desserts for their next wedding gig. 

She had a quiet dinner of leftovers; some pot roast and the last of her homemade bread while Plagg and Wayzz got into a "debate" on what they were going to watch on Netflix. She and Tikki shared knowing glances with each other as their discussion quickly devolved into a mini slapping match.

"I say whoever gets the dishes first gets to pick," Tikki stage-whispered. Marinette hummed at her noncommittally. Before either of them could say anything else, a black blur of cat whipped past their heads. Wayzz sputtered for a second and zipped to "help." 

"Thank you guys!" Marinette said as she and Tikki headed for the balcony and a quick escape. 

"I WAS FIRST," Plagg yelled after them.

"NO YOU WEREN'T DISHES AREN'T DONE YET," Wayzz hollered. 

Outside, Marinette and Tikki giggled. "What do you want to bet the others have already made a decision?" 

"Oh I'm counting on it," she laughed. "Tikki, Spots On!" 

* * *

Cassandra didn't look surprised so much as resigned when Damian showed up at Barbara's apartment. She leaned her head back into the kitchen, checking for their intrepid researcher of a teammate. The door leading to Oracle's setup was firmly shut; she had been working on some Justice League case on Bruce's behest. Coast mostly clear, she motioned Damian inside to get suited up. They armed themselves quickly with guises and weapons. 

"Batman?" she asked. 

"Told him I wanted to look into something about Leviathan. Just a hunch, I told him." Robin smirked at the memory of their conversation—even several years later Bruce was still paranoid about his mother making a return appearance. 

"Are you still worried about them?"

He shook his head. "More concerned about our new teammate, at the moment." Cass rolled her eyes at him. His smirk disappeared. "What?"

"I don't think she's bad." 

"Then don't come." 

She raised an eyebrow, opening the window leading out to the fire escape. "You need supervision." 

He snorted and leapt out into the stifling evening air. Cassandra closed the window behind them, leaving the screen open in a wordless message to the tenant that she would return later. 

Inside the apartment, Barbara Gordon rubbed her temples again. Years in front of a computer screen had done its damage; she and her father weren't known for their ability to leave a mystery unsolved. She heard Cassandra shuffling around the apartment for most of the afternoon and had watched her confer with Damian over her CCTV before the two suited up and headed out the fire escape. 

They were up to something, but she couldn't find enough reason to care. The French and Parisian authorities were frustratingly tight-lipped about who to speak with for access to Gabriel Agrete. She had been bouncing through emails and international phone calls (thank Christ the time difference wasn't terrible). She took a sip of coffee, grimaced at the cold drink, and shifted a bunch of papers off her desk to her burn pile. Then she dialed Bruce. 

He skipped the pleasantries, which was not a big surprise. "Any news?" 

"That you're going to have to do this as the League. The officials are giving me the runaround and I don't have the patience to deal with a closed case," she snapped. 

"Alright. Forward me the details and I'll make the call." 

"Done," she clicked send on her pre-drafted email. "Did Damian or Cass say what they were up to tonight?" 

"No." Bruce rumbled. She instantly knew one of them had told him and he didn't like it. "Received. Good night, Barbara." He hung up before she could respond. 

"No," she mocked in her best impression of his voice. "Well we'll see about that."

Bruce barely skimmed the message from Barbara before dialing his next call. She picked up on the third ring. "Bruce."

"Diana," he greeted. 

"Coming up to the station anytime soon?"

"Still taking care of things in Gotham." 

"As always," he could hear the smile in her voice. "What do you need?"

"Have you caught up on some of the case files from when you were gone?" 

He could tell she was rolling her eyes at him. "Tell me which ones and I will." No one ever read his case files unless they had to and it kind of pissed him off. 

"Magical terrorist contained to Paris. Looking for something called the Miraculous." 

Diana's response sounded dazed, "What years?" 

He gave them to her and listened to the plunk of her fingers on the keyboard. Silence stretched as she read his recently updated notes. "We didn't send anyone?" 

"I didn't think it was necessary." 

"You didn't—," she stopped herself and exhaled heavily. "Why do you ask this now?" 

"I want to know who Hawkmoth was. What happened to whatever gave him his power, if it still exists. We tried going through Gotham investigative channels to talk to Mr. Agreste, but the French are giving up the runaround." He waited to see if she had an opinion. When she didn't, he added, "I was hoping Wonder Woman could pay them a visit." 

"I am going now. I will meet you in Gotham when I am done." 

He opened his mouth to add that he was going to send some contacts over, but she disconnected the call first. Vaguely, he wondered if that was why Barbara got testy with him over the phone. 

* * *

Nightwing met her alone on the GCPD station rooftop. He waved her down with a good-natured cheer she expected from him at this point. 

"Everyone else left?" she asked. 

He shrugged. "They had their own plans tonight. Fridays are usually pretty messy." He passed her the communication device. "We probably won't need it, but just in case." 

She fitted the piece into her ear. "What are we doing?"

"Introducing you to some useful contacts. I have the bike tonight. Want a ride?"

She shook her head. "Some other time. I want to get used to the rooftops." 

Nightwing laughed, "Well I'll try not to lose you." 

Ladybug's face lit up with the challenge. "You couldn't if you tried," she dared him. 

"I'll take that." He offered his fist to seal the bet. Heart squeezing at the memory, she tapped his knuckles with hers. 

He walked off the roof, all show, and gracefully made his way down the escape ladder to the streets where his sleek black motorcycle waited. Ladybug readied herself, eyes fixed on the top of his head as the engine roared to life. He shot out of the alleyway, taking a sharp turn uptown. Nightwing frequently checked over his shoulder for his black and red tail, unconcerned with the bustling city traffic. He wove through the streets with practiced ease, forcing Ladybug to make several sharp turns and running building leaps. 

"You're pretty good," he laughed over the comm. 

She grinned but didn't respond. Quips were a little too much right now and she really wanted to win. The fifteen minute race came to a close at an older apartment building. She landed streetside, cheeks flushed from her speed, triumphant. Nightwing offered her a fist bump in congratulations. "Nice. I'll go harder on you next time."

"You can try," she challenged again. "Where are we?"

"Someone's house. He wasn't at the station, so my guess is he's home or at the bar." Ladybug followed him into the building and up four flights to a hallway full of apartments doors with missing numbers. The wallpaper peeled in places and the entire place smelt vaguely of cigarette smoke and old steak. 

Nightwing knocked on the third door, which looked newer and sturdier than the ones around it. A heavy-set man in a wife beater opened the door. 

"Christ, there's a new one," he grumbled. "Waddya want, Nightwing?" 

"Ladybug, this is retired detective Harvey Bullock. He's a useful guy to know. Harv, this Ladybug. Are you up for a chat?" 

"No," the grumpy man folded his arms and went back inside. He left the door open. 

Nightwing chuckled and followed him. Marinette frowned, unsure if the man himself or the smell of his apartment put her off more. Taking a breath in the less stale hallway, she entered and shut the door behind them. 

* * *

Damian made short work of the lock to her front door. Stupid woman didn't even latch the door when she was out on patrol. He and Cass stepped in and closed and locked the door behind them. A pair of flats and heels sat on the shoe rack next to the door. Indentations of cardboard in the carpet told him she finally got around to taking the moving recycling out. 

The apartment itself was open and sparse—the home of someone starting a new life. Dishes from a reheated dinner air-dried on the kitchen island next to the sink and her black cat cookie jar. She didn't have a kitchen table, but made up for three bar stools in front of the island. She had a gray couch and a pink beanbag chair situated in front of a small television and a game station. Cass slipped into the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

He glanced at a single photograph handing next to the television. It showed some corner bakery on a Parisian street in black and white. The streets around it were empty, the sign was flipped to closed, but there was an ethereal glow in the back that suggested someone was up and moving. Damian guessed it was her family home, but he wondered why it was just a picture of the shop and not of her parents or friends. He tipped the frame to one side, to see if she had stashed anything behind it. He slid his gloved fingers over the spackled wall, nothing out of the ordinary. 

"You're not good at listening, are you kid?" 

The cat's voice made him jump, but he forced himself not to whirl around. He had really hoped the thing wouldn't be awake if she was gone. 

"Well?" the god asked, "What's your excuse?" 

"I told you. Due diligence." Damian turned to look over his shoulder. He couldn't hear Cass in the back rooms, but didn't expect to. 

The small cat floated over the kitchen island, green eyes glittering ominously in the dark. "And I remember telling you to back off." 

"What are you going to do about it?" 

Plagg grinned, teeth longer than he remembered them being. There was a clatter in the back rooms, highly out of character for Cass. Damian tensed, ready to run to her aid, but Plagg got in his face first. "Oh don't worry, she'll be fine." 

"Orphan?" He called. 

No response. 

Shit. 

Plagg laughed, stinky cheese breath turning Damian's stomach. "You're the one in trouble now." 

He stabbed Robin in the chest with his tail, like a scorpion. The man staggered to the ground, pain erupting in his chest. He couldn't see anything, not like before, but the pain of being stabbed was just as bad as he remembered. Paralysis spread out from his chest, racing to his fingers and toes. Damian struggled for breath, even though his lungs still seemed to be working. 

"Can she…" the words caught in his throat. Why was he asking that question now?

Plagg rubbed up against his cheek, which might have been comforting if he didn't feel like he was dying again. "Can she what?" the god prompted. 

"Can she see this?" he managed to get out between gasps. He figured the cat would know he meant the wound on his chest that the god could clearly see. 

"Not the way she is now." Plagg moved away from his cheek and over his shoulder, claws prickling through his suit and leaving a painful trail in his wake. 

"What—" Damian bit out a scream that threatened to erupt as Plagg dug into his back with talons that probably weren't real. 

"Aw, no need to act tough. No one can hear you away," the god told him as he continued to claw a pattern into his back. "This is just a little reminder until you learn your manners."

Robin ground his teeth, jaw straining. He finally screamed through clenched teeth. 

After several agonizing minutes of claws, Plagg said, "You know, you're lucky. I'm not half as bad as Sugar Cube when she's pissed." Damian didn't want to give him more satisfaction. He swallowed, throat raw from his agony. Finally, the cat told him, "Okay, we're done here." 

Robin blinked. He was staring at the bakery photo again, completely upright. The all-consuming pain had faded to just his back, where Plagg had clawed him. Before he could even register how badly the marks stung or how discombobulated he felt, Cass roughly grabbed him. The steel in her grip and the glimpse he caught of her anger was enough to stop him from saying anything out loud. He let Orphan drag him to the door, up to the rooftop access, and into the night. 

"Oracle, comm Nightwing, closed from the team." she hissed, hold still firm on his shoulder. Barb muttered over their devices and suddenly Nightwing's voice was in their ears. 

"—be like that. You're in the presence of a lady." 

"Nightwing, where's Ladybug?" 

"Excuse me. You got this, Ladybug?" he said. They both heard the heroine's muffled affirmative in the background. Cass waited patiently for Nightwing to respond directly to her. 

"We're here at Bullock's. What's wrong?" he asked a few seconds later.

"Nothing. Comm off," Cass growled. She then punched Damian in the gut. 

Still dazed, he didn't react until she came for him again. Robin tried to move but Cass, as always, was too fast for him. She got him again, this time right in the center of his breastbone. When he wheezed and stumbled, she grabbed the clasp of his cloak and brought them face-to-face.

"What the fuck, Damian," she hissed. "She was there. Sleeping." 

"What—" he started, but she kneed him in the balls. His protective gear stopped most of the blow, but it was still enough to knock the wind out of him.

She shoved him to the ground. "Go home. Now," she growled. "Have Oracle send your location when you're there." 

Dazed, confused, and hurting in more ways than one, Damian studied her. She seemed to be in her right mind. If Cass really thought he had messed up this hard, she would probably react like this. He guessed there was some magic involved. Damian got to his feet silently. He was in too much pain to argue; he needed time to think. He needed to figure out what the hell happened, what Cass thought, at least when she wasn't ready to beat him bloody. Robin took off with enough dignity as he could muster, feeling her intense glare until she was out of range. 

Once he felt like he was in range of the manor, he whistled Goliath. His back hurt too much to think about a ride home from Barb's place. He waited, eyes on the light-polluted sky. 

"Shit," he hissed to himself. That definitely didn't go to plan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a long one! Like I said, more is on the way because I'm trapped in the house and only going a little crazy. Again, I am an IRL microbiologist, I'm joining a lab working on COVID19, so if you have A N Y questions about the pandemic, feel free to reach out to me. I won't make fun of you and I will explain to the best of my ability. In times like this, knowledge is power. Please use me as a resource. 
> 
> Stay safe, sane, and home! I love you all. Thank you so much for your support (and your comments).


	10. An Unexpected Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it turns out being trapped in the house isn't super great for my productivity as a writer. Your comments definitely help though. Thank you all for the congratulations and well-wishes. Good news is that I'm moving in like... two weeks and April seems to be moving faster than March (thank fuck). 
> 
> Hope you all aren't going too crazy at home and, most of all, that you're healthy. Stay safe everyone!

The conversation with Bullock was interesting. They spent more time arguing about the ethics of vigilantism than giving her useful information. Bullock hinted several times that the GCPD needed good people on the force, only to be shut down by Nightwing with some vaguely threatening statements about 'how he would know, since he wasn't one of those people.' The man turned so purple that she thought he might start shouting, but he never blew up on either of them. 

She glanced inquisitively at Nightwing when he returned from his private call, but he shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

They left around an hour later. She took the ride Nightwing offered as they travelled to the north end of Gotham based on a tip from Bullock about a pawn shop owner who may have worked with the Riddler before. Marinette had never been in a pawn shop before—she had only walked past them in Paris on her search for vintage clothes stores. The first thing that greeted her was a wall-to-wall pinboard filled to the brim with guns. She wasn't used to the insane obsession Americans had with firearms. The broker spoke quietly on the phone, not looking up when they came in. Nightwing motioned for her to check the shop. Ladybug nodded and disappeared into the haphazardly stocked shelves that blocked their view of the poorly lit corners of the store. 

Eyes roaming from floor to ceiling, Ladybug slipped through the shelves. She peered through the cracks left by stacks of pots and pans, old VHS players, and assorted boxes labeled 'JUNK 1$' in permanent marker. Not finding anyone else, she tucked herself into a corner where she could watch Nightwing speak with the owner. 

When the man finally hung up, he didn't seem surprised or bothered by a superhero in his store. Instead, he took a drag of his vape pen and said "What can I do for you?" 

"Just wondering if you've talked to the Riddler recently." 

The owner blew blueberry-scented vapor that settled sickly over the store. "Yeah, his guys came in to buy some camera equipment. Didn't say what they wanted it for, didn't ask." 

Nightwing took the easy admission in stride. "You aren't worried about them coming back?" 

"Nah." 

"What did the guys look like?" 

"Don't remember." 

"Would you mind letting us go through your recordings?" Ladybug asked, stepping out into view. The owner jumped, flushing a little when he saw how small she was compared to Nightwing. 

"No recordings to speak of little lady. They're just for show." He glanced between her and Nightwing. "Anything else? You'll scare away customers if you hang around." 

Nightwing leaned over the counter and tapped his ledger. "Just a list of what they bought. Surely you remember that." 

The broker grumbled, but eventually flipped open his inventory book to the entry. They had come in two days ago and bought three video cameras with some studio-grade sound equipment. Nightwing raised an eyebrow, but didn't pester the man anymore. Instead, he tipped his head and gave the owner a two-fingered salute. "Have a good one." 

Ladybug followed him out of the store. Once they were back on his bike, she said, "He seemed a little too forthcoming." 

Nightwing chuckled and handed her a helmet. "He did. That's why I bugged his front desk."

"When?"

"I'll show you sometime. Don't worry about it now." He revved the bike engine to life. "Let's go look for some fun." 

Nightwing's idea of fun, apparently, was ducking in and out of bars, clubs, and music venues. Unlike Orphan or Robin, he moved easily through crowds and struck up conversations easily. He knew the names of every bartender, every bouncer, and every waiter they met. He introduced her with ease, telling them to ask her for help if they needed it. When Nightwing wasn't looking directly at them, she felt them size her up with unease. 

That is, until they went to the Tiger's Tooth. The venue was densely packed; some popular alternative rock band jammed out onstage amid flashing lights and the distinct smell of cigarettes and sweat. As she trailed Nightwing through the crowd toward the bar, shrieks of excitement distracted them. 

" _ Holy fuck! It's Ladybug! _ " 

" _ Don't curse! Ladybug! Over here!"  _

Both she and Nightwing turned, in time to see two women push through the crowd to them. One had a mass of tightly curled and brightly rainbow-colored hair that framed dark brown skin, while the other sported a pastel pink pixie cut. They both wore recently purchased band t-shirts over their dresses. "Fans of yours?" Nightwing guessed. 

" _ Ladybug we thought you were dead! _ " Rainbow-hair asked. 

" _ Is Chat Noir here? Oh my god I will die if he is _ ," Pixie-cut added. 

Marinette knew this day would come. She had hoped an ocean and the hiatus would give her a little more time to get used to being herself again. " _ Not dead, just needed elsewhere. And Chat Noir is… retired. He would have loved to meet a fan, I'm sure. _ "

Pixie-cut flushed, " _ Can we please take a picture? Please? You saved my older brother from getting eaten by that T-Rex—my family would love to know you're safe. _ "

" _ Oh please Ladybug! Paris was so worried when you disappeared _ ," Rainbow-hair said and then looked stricken, " _ Has Hawkmoth returned? _ " The panic set on so suddenly that Ladybug's heart squeezed.

She reached out and put a hand on both their shoulders. " _ Hawkmoth will never return. Please trust me. I am here to help the people of Gotham, and nothing more. _ "

They both relaxed a little, but the tension wouldn't be chased away so quickly. 

" _ We trust you, Ladybug _ ," Rainbow-hair told her, Pixie-cut nodded emphatically with her. " _ Thank you for all you did _ ."

It was Ladybug's turn to flush. She was about to brush off the gratitude, but Nightwing stepped in. " _ Ladies, you mentioned something about a photo? Ladybug and I have to move on soon _ ." 

The women, who only had eyes for Ladybug up until that moment, both blushed furiously. Pixie-cut hissed to her friend, " _ Julie that's NIGHTWING _ ."

" _ Keep it cool, Odette _ ," her friend replied. Both Nightwing and Ladybug hid their smiles—the cheering from the last song settled down and her stage whisper was louder than intended. 

Rainbow-hair—Julie—shyly held up her phone. " _ Can we get a photo with both of you? Please? _ " 

Nightwing insisted, because he had the longest arms, on taking a selfie of the four of them. Ladybug scooted close to Odette while Julie tried not to appear too flustered as Nightwing slung a friendly arm over her shoulders. 

" _ One, two, three! _ " 

He took a couple shots and passed the phone back to Julie. " _ Enjoy the rest of the concert, ladies. _ " 

"Thank you!" they both chorused unsteadily. He gave them a heart-melting smile and waved Ladybug along to the bar. She nodded and stopped Julie.

" _ Please don't share that photo publically _ ," she asked, " _ It'll be safer that way. _ "

Julie nodded, hair bouncing. " _ Anything to help you, Ladybug. _ " 

" _ Thank you. Stay safe and have fun _ ." 

Ladybug didn't bother hiding her grin when both women squealed in delight behind her. The fact that someone recognized her in this dark town reminded her of the impact she had on the lives of people in Paris. It was hard to remember sometimes. 

Nightwing didn't mention anything about the encounter until their patrol drew to a close. They had taken refuge on a roof, waiting for the GCPD to come pick up a pair of muggers they left tied up in the street below. 

"Who's Chat Noir?" he asked, startling her. 

Marinette swallowed hard. "He was my partner." 

"Oh. Did he really retire?"

She chuckled at the careful phrasing he used. "Yes, he has returned to being a civilian." 

Nightwing leaned over the roof as a patrol car pulled up. "Ah. Cool. Are you… good with that?" 

Ladybug opened her mouth to answer but instead let out a long sigh. "I miss him. He was the best." 

"Even better than us?" 

She grinned. Nightwing watched her face carefully, not missing the wistful ache in her eyes. "In his own way. Where did you learn to speak French?" 

It was his turn to laugh. "Honestly? Did it to impress a girl." 

Not expecting the answer, Ladybug burst into giggles. "Did it work?" she asked. 

He puffed up his chest, "Course it did" He leaned in conspiratorially. "Don't tell anyone on the team I told you this, but I married her." 

"No way," Marinette accused. "So she's French?" 

"Mmmmmmaybe. You could say she's got an out-of-this-world interest in languages." 

The cops finished loading up the two muggers into their car. Nightwing stood and offered Ladybug a hand up.

"I think that's about it for tonight, unless you don't need to sleep," he told her.

Ladybug shook her head, ribbons almost drooping to mirror her exhaustion. "That's fine with me." She handed the communication device back to him. "Thank you. I have a lot to learn, but I appreciate you taking the time with me." 

He blinked, clearly not used to being thanked by his teammates. "Honestly? It's nice to work with someone who isn't all doom and gloom." 

Ladybug took the yoyo from her hip. "Happy to help." She began to swing it, trying to randomly decide a direction to get out of sight before heading home. 

"Just two things," Nightwing stopped her. "You've been out three nights in a row. We rotate out. Take a break tomorrow. Red Robin will meet you at the usual spot on Sunday." 

She nodded, a little relieved he mentioned nights off. Tikki had already been nagging her about the pace. "What else?" she asked. 

"Word has a way of getting out. If something dangerous will come after you because you're here, you need to tell us." 

Her spinning slowed, but she shook her head. "For now? I'm more worried about the Ladybug fans. They're… incredibly driven." He laughed at the comment, like she meant him to. "I don't keep important information from my team; if I think there's danger, you'll all know." 

Nightwing smiled at that and bid her goodnight before casually backflipping off the roof. She barely caught the yelp of surprise from escaping her throat as she rushed over to check on him. Already seated on his motorbike, he gave her a friendly wave and disappeared into the night. 

* * *

Damian changed into more comfortable clothes but didn't bother going up to his bedroom once he messaged his location to Oracle. Instead, he, Goliath, Titus, and Nicklesworth (also known as Pennyworth II) settled into a large cuddle puddle in the library. Both Goliath and Titus seemed concerned about the itching, stinging pain that was driving Damian slowly insane, even though he tried not to show it. Nicklesworth draped herself over his lap and lazily kneaded his stomach. 

"Your claws are sharp," he told the cat. She blinked at him and began to purr, still kneading. Titus and Goliath both rumbled in response. He allowed himself a small smile, despite the pain. It was nice to have someone around who loved him no matter what. He snuggled into Goliath's side to catch some sleep before Cass found him. 

At least, he tried. After stealing some cushions from reading chairs and blankets from a nearby closet, the animal nest he built for himself still wasn't able to put him to sleep. The dragon-bat and dog both fell asleep sometime around four in the morning, but Damian was still awake, stroking Nicklesworth in an attempt to control increasingly frantic thoughts about the painful claw marks on his back. He had checked his suit when he got in; nothing had broke through. But there was a nagging feeling in his mind that he was marked somehow, that if he took off his shirt and looked in a mirror some horrible injury would reveal itself. 

Damian wouldn't look. If Cass had been bamboozled by whatever magic Marinette and Plagg and the bug-thing had in her apartment, he wasn't going to risk looking insane by asking someone to treat supernatural wounds on his back. Finally, he gave up on sleep and checked his phone. A few contacts had emailed him back, either saying they hadn't heard of them or they needed time to gather information. The magic interest Reddit he queried was surprisingly more helpful; someone mentioned rumors of a spellbook containing details about the Miraculous and their "ultimate power." The downside was the rumor—from a World War II love letter of all things—also said there was only one copy and it had been lost. 

Frustrated, Damian tried laying on one side, snuggling into Goliath's arm in an attempt to relieve pressure off his back. It didn't help, and worse, it woke Titus up. The Great Dane woofed quietly at him before offering a few stinky-breathed licks. He left in search of breakfast. Nicklesworth followed not long after that, only sparing Damian a passing glance

Goliath patted his head. "'m fine. Go back to sleep buddy," he ordered. 

Since sleep seemed impossible, he switched to a poor attempt at mediation. He counted his breaths before he lost track and started counting Goliath's. Titus' return disrupted his concentration again, as did the dog's well-intentioned attempt to snuggle with him. Instead, the dog laying against his back startled a hiss of pain out of him. The dog jumped away, apologetically whining as Goliath jumped up like they were going to be attacked. 

"Down, Goliath. It's okay," he soothed them both, shoving the pain into the back of his head.

He checked his phone again. No new emails. No messages from Cass. No messages from anyone, actually, which made him a little nervous. 

Maybe water would help. Groaning, he got to his feet and led his procession of animals to his bathroom. 

* * *

It had been a while since he had an "official" visit. Honestly, it had been a while since he had any visitors at all. His communications had been restricted to his lawyers and the occasional psychologist who had high enough connections to get an interview. Gabriel Agreste never considered himself a social person by any means, but the sudden loss of interaction with anyone on a regular basis had him questioning that basic fact. The morning shift guard who notified him that an official requested an interview didn't count in his book—Gabriel was sure the man didn't have two thoughts to rub together. 

He agreed, pulling on the horrifyingly gray and drab prison-issued sweatshirt over his worn cotton white t-shirt. He smoothed his hair quickly in the mirror as the guard opened the door to his isolated cell and led him to the interview rooms. 

The woman didn't turn to greet him as he entered, nor did she greet him as the guard secured his wrists to the table. She nodded to the guard, who looked flustered as he left them alone. 

Gabriel studied her as he waited for an acknowledgement. She had pitch-black hair coiled in a professional updo. Her pantsuit was expertly tailored, dark gray pinstripe jacket layered over a muddy red blouse. She studied him as well, dark brown eyes surely not missing his unruly hair and sunken cheeks. Prison had not been kind to him, especially after the administrators determined it would be several years before he could be allowed to join the general population (for his safety, of course).

"Tell me about Hawkmoth," she ordered in English, although she spoke with an accent he couldn't quite place.

So that's how it was going to be. "I gave my statement about my interactions and cooperation with Hawkmoth to the investigators. Surly they provided you a copy." 

It wasn't the answer she wanted and he knew it. He smirked inwardly, enjoying the sudden turn in his day. Not only did he get to talk to someone new, he got to give his perfectly legal runaround to anyone who had questions about his 'involvement.'

"Fine. Where did you get the Miraculous?" 

Even more interesting. Maybe she didn't care about him at all. Maybe he could use her to get out of this miserable situation. "I don't know what you mean," he said, tripping over his words intentionally. 

"Monsieur Agreste, if you do not honestly answer my next question, we will both be upset," she commented mildly, eyes flashing in anger but face still settled in interrogation mode. 

"I am being honest," he lied. 

She breathed in through her nose. "Fine." 

Before he knew what was happening, rope coiled around his body, trapping his arms to his sides. She gripped the coarse weave of his sweatshirt with one hand, the end of the rope in the other. 

"Where did you get the Miraculous?" 

He tried to lie. He tried incredibly hard. His traitorous mouth ground out, "My wife and I found them on a beach in Thailand. She thought they were beautiful trinkets washed up on the shore. When the kwami introduced themselves, we both became interested in their power." 

"Which ones did you have?" 

Gabriel inwardly felt like his throat was going to tear itself apart, but his voice sounded completely normal as he responded. "The Butterfly and the Peacock." 

"Where are they now?" 

Now he was happy to complain about that. "Ladybug stole them from me, along with my only chance to see Emile again." 

The woman didn't seem moved by this admission. Instead, she asked, "Why do they say you worked with Hawkmoth, instead of naming you?" 

"That was the deal with Ladybug," he told her. "To protect Adrien." 

"Was Adrien involved?" 

"No," he said and growled to his own private horror, "that stupid child held the Black Cat. He kept it from me. He could have seen his mother again and he chose that stupid bitch over his own family"

This surprised her. "Does he still have it?" 

"I don't know," he replied, "but if he does, he might come to his senses and join me. We can still save Emilie." 

Her eyes only seemed to pity him. "He asked the prison to not allow you any communication," she pointed out.

"Little harlot turned him against me. He'll learn someday," Gabriel muttered.

"Who is Ladybug?" 

"I don't know. I would've killed her if I did. I would kill her now if I could." It felt good to say that out loud. Powerful, even.

The rope holding him slackened. Relief flooded him again, followed sharply by fear as his face was slammed into the table. 

"You will never get the opportunity," the woman hissed. She roughly shoved him into the painfully cold metal surface and left the room.

Outside, she instructed the waiting guard to take him back to his cell. She met with the prison administrators and notified them that the man had threatened to commit murder and should be kept at the highest level of risk to society. They hastily assured her that Gabriel Agreste would not return to public life anytime soon, if ever. 

Still seething, Diana called Bruce once she left the prison walls. "Your hunch was right. He was Hawkmoth," she told him by way of greeting. 

"And Ladybug?" he asked.

"Threatened to kill her, so it's safe to say that she's not an ally." She fumbled with the keys to her rented car. "Not likely that his son worked with him either, but I will check on him." 

Bruce attempted to caution her about speaking directly to the young man, but Diana already hung up on him. The fact the Miraculous washed up on a beach for god sakes trouble her. She had assumed the Order had been doing their job, but giving the power of Creation and Destruction away to  _ teenagers _ to correct the error? 

Something had gone wrong and she was going to get to the bottom of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So did you know that French prisoners can BUY THEIR OWN CLOTHES? I mean, it's all prison issue, but they abolished uniforms a couple of decades ago. Wild. As a U.S. citizen casually skimming reports about French prison policies, I am once against reminded about the horrors of my home country's justice system. 
> 
> Also also, I figured Pennysworth (the cat) was probably dead at this point, so I named his successor Nicklesworth. I am more tickled by the decision than I should be. 
> 
> Anyway, no idea when the next chapter is coming, but we're getting close to some future scenes that I've already written. The more comments you leave, the faster I'll fill in the necessary parts to get there!
> 
> Again, thank you all for your support. You all really brighten my day.


	11. Calm Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, global pandemics are exhausting! 2020 needs to quit immediately. Good news: I graduated. Bad news: My very cool research job was put on hold and they released me from the contract (GOD DAMMIT I REALLY WANTED THAT JOB) because it was at a hospital and their budgets are super tight. Good news: my husband and I successfully moved and we have AC now which is lovely. Bad news: our old neighbor, a very kind man from Libya, died on Father's Day of a massive heart attack, leaving behind four kids and his wife who is finishing her PhD; I've been spending a lot of time with them, they're managing as best as they can. Bad news: My dad also had a heart attack like two days after that happened. Good news: My dad is okay. Good news: I started a new, new contract job at a pharmaceutical manufacturing facility, so yay for that. Not as cool as growing fucking lungs (still bitter), but we're producing gene therapy drugs for rare diseases, so that's neat. 
> 
> So yeah, it's been a wild couple of months. I hope you all are hanging on to any scraps of sanity and moments of joy. Here's the chapter.

Three nights of patrol on top of work had taken its toll on her. Plagg seemed irritated when she and Tikki returned, but her Kwami insisted that she go directly to bed while confiscating her phone for good measure. She would sleep until she woke up and not a minute sooner. Marinette didn't complain. She was more tired than she expected to be, even though she hadn't expected to bounce right back into the superhero schedule. Weren't 23-year-olds supposed to be energetic and invincible? 

Their guardian off to bed, Plagg and Tikki settled on her desk. It didn't take long for her breathing to even out to sleep—they both knew the adjustment to hero life wouldn't be as easy as she had hoped. When they were satisfied she slept, the two returned to the room Marinette set up for them and the rest of the kwami. 

To the casual observer, it might have been a blend of guest and game room. A futon with cushy pillows sat in one corner, next to a bedside table and small bookcase. There was a television on the wall next to the door and a miniature fridge. A stack of board games, plus a charging tablet and console with three controllers, were by the futon. With their input, Marinette designed and crafted a large tapestry representing the Miraculous. The old gramophone from Fu's place sat on top of the minifridge, but was no longer home to the box itself. Plants also decorated the room, a money tree that seemed content with its life inside thanks to its day-timed warming lamp next to a series of cacti and succulents. 

Trixx waited for them, lazily swiping through some internet forum with his paw on a tablet. "How'd she take it?" 

"Take what?" Tikki asked. 

Plagg shook his head, tugging Tikki to the futon. "Didn't say anything. Kid was beat." 

This concerned the ladybug kwami. "Please tell me everything is okay." 

"Oh sure!" Trixx laughed. "Our plan worked like a charm. You would've loved it." 

"Damian came back tonight with another bat friend. Picked the lock on the front door." 

Tikki gasped in rage and indignation. "What did you do?" 

" _ I  _ dealt with the friend. Made it look like our girl was all snuggled up in bed," Trixx told her proudly. 

Plagg chuckled darkly. "And  _ I  _ had another talk with Damian. He'll back off if he knows what's good for him." 

Tikki groaned, worry pinching her face, "We have to tell Marinette. If you spooked him twice, I don't think that will stop him a third time." 

The fox kwami giggled. "Oh Tikki, you should have seen how livid his buddy was. She beat the shit out of him on the rooftop. She thought he was creeping on her!" 

"To be fair, he kind of was," Plagg added. "His team will help keep him in check, promise." 

Wayzz, who had been quietly reading a book near the money tree, spoke up. "I agree with Tikki. It is best if she knows her identity is compromised." 

"We can't risk her giving up the guardianship!" Trixx hissed.

"She won't," Tikki assured him. "There's no one trained, and the closest one would be Adrien. She would die before willingly passing it to him." 

"You sure, Sugarcube?" 

Tikki nodded without hesitation. "Yes. But we should be prepared to assure and advise her in her next steps." The other kwami murmured in agreement.

"Well! Since our guardian needs her rest before anything else is getting done," Trixx clapped his paws together and picked up the remote, "I say we move on to the next priority, which is choosing our next show." 

"You picked last time! I call dibs," Plagg insisted. "How about Chernobyl?" 

The others groaned. 

* * *

In the end, it was her phone ringing in the kwami's room that woke her up just before noon. She blinked a few times at the sunlight streaming in through the blinds. Marinette felt sore in a good way. The ringtone stopped, so she assumed that Tikki had silenced it until it forwarded to voicemail.

"I'm up, Tikki!" she called. 

It didn't take long for her kwami to bring the phone, Trixx following her curiously. "Oh good! Adrien has called like three times this morning." As she said that, the phone started ringing. 

Marinette answered, " _ Adrien, some of us sleep in on the weekends. _ "

" _ I was worried about you! Usually you're up earlier. _ " His voice was bright and definitely not as scolding as she guessed he wanted it to be. 

" _ I've been pulling some late nights for a new client. They're from a really important family, plus they're super sweet _ ."

Instead of the reprimand over lost sleep, he teased her. " _ Anyone I might know? _ " Marinette heard the full force of his grin in her voice and couldn't help smiling herself. 

" _ Nope. Falan was about bouncing off the walls though. _ " 

" _ Awww. Luka and I were about to watch a movie; want to join us? _ "

" _ What movie? _ "

" _ Anything you want! _ "

She laughed. " _ You guys pick. Let me grab some breakfast and get set up. _ " 

" _ See you in a bit! _ " 

Marinette hung up and rolled out of bed. 

" _ Adrien misses you _ ," Tikki said. 

Marinette sighed, the corners of her mouth pinching into a sad smile. " _ I miss him too. _ " 

" _ Marinette, there's something we need to discuss—, _ " Tikki started, but was immediately hushed by Trixx's paw.

"After the movie!" the fox kwami told her. "It's fine."

" _ You sure? _ " she asked, eyebrows knitting together. 

"Absolutely! Right Tikki?"

The kwami of creation sighed and offered Marinette a reassuring smile. " _ Yes, it can wait until after the movie. _ "

* * *

Damian made himself scarce from the mansion after his shower. It hadn't helped with the itching or the pain, and it especially didn't help when he saw that Plagg had actually scratched a less-than-friendly message into his skin. He only caught two letters in the mirror, but immediately turned his head away to avoid reading it in full. In this case, he didn't want to know or have to worry about scarring.

The mansion hallways were quiet when he emerged from the bathroom. Despite that, he snuck down to the kitchen for the most simple food possible—a plain bagel—before slipping out into the backyard gardens. The sun promised another scorching day, he noted sourly. 

He laid on Goliath, belly to belly. The dragon-bat seemed content with the already humid weather and didn't mind the laptop perched on his chest. Nickelsworth curled up in a patch of sunlight not too far away, while Titus was back in the cool house taking a nap. 

Even though he had checked just a little while ago, he opened his emails again. Maya messaged him while he was in the shower with pictures of her newly reconstructed beehives—her colonies had needed an upgrade, she told him last month when he asked her what the point was. He smiled, glad to see that she wasn't restless to the point of getting into trouble. (That was his job.) With no other new messages, he returned to slogging through Hawkmoth's trial transcripts. 

Some time had passed before he heard Alfred approach, cane dragging in the manicured grass. "Master Damian, your father would like to speak with you." 

"He can come out here," Damian told him, not looking up from his phone and praying that 

Despite his advanced age, Alfred remained as sharp as ever, "If you would like your father to confront you in the rather public setting of the gardens about your visit with Ms. Cain to a civilian apartment, be my guest." 

Damian scowled at the butler, but the elderly gentleman had already turned away for the trek back to the manor. He snapped his laptop shut, startling Goliath from his half-nap. "Stay," he ordered the cat and dragon-bat. Goliath obeyed. Nicklesworth followed him to his father's office. 

"You could've called instead of sending Alfred out in this heat," he told his father by way of greeting. 

Bruce glanced up from his computer screen. "You know Alfred would protest over being treated like an old man." 

Damian shut the door behind him, leaning against the frame instead of approaching the desk. "What do you want?"

"Cassandra told me about your investigation." 

"Yeah, and?" 

Bruce stood and approached him. "We're concerned." He couldn't read his father's face, but he was sure his father couldn't get behind his own well-trained mask. 

"Like you haven't made some dubious decisions in your day." Damian snapped. 

Bruce stopped a few feet away from him, straight-backed as ever. "It's why I want to caution you in your methods." 

The young man glowered sourly. "Cass already took care of it."

"Well… do you want to talk about why?" Bruce's shoulders slumped a little, like he was preparing for a conversation he had been dreading. 

That threw Damian for a loop. "Why? Why what? I had a lead, I thought it was good." His back itched wildly. "Apparently it wasn't." 

His father cleared his throat, "Are you sure this isn't just about the lead?"

"What else would it be about?" Damian asked. Why was Bruce acting so strange? He knew for a fact that his father had made plenty of errors in judgement before. Both Batman and Bruce Wayne were imperfect men. 

The elder Wayne stared at his son like he was trying to develop telepathy. Damian met his gaze, with mostly confusion and irritation. Finally Bruce sighed. 

"Nevermind. Just remember your boundaries. Timelines lining up doesn't mean it's a certain thing." 

Damian smirked. "So you looked into her too." 

"Yes," he admitted, "but I didn't find it necessary to break into her apartment. If you pay attention, there are other leads. Sometimes coincidence is just coincidence." 

Hearing his father, of all people, shocked him. Damian's mouth dropped open, completely out of his control. 

"What?" Bruce asked, a little bit of a smile replacing the discomfort from before, "Even I recognize coincidence sometimes." 

Meanwhile, Damian was wondering if Plagg had gotten into the manor and messed with his father's brain, just like Cass. It took him a few seconds to decide it would not be the best follow up to discuss the existence of a vengeful and threatening magic mini cat claiming to be a chaos god, so he chose a different approach. "Never thought I would hear it from you, that's all." 

Bruce laughed and clapped his son on the shoulder. They both inwardly cringed at how awkward it felt, two grown men trying to play at being a normal family for an invisible audience.

"I've got some more research to do," Damian lied, "Waiting to hear from some friends in the magic community." 

His father nodded approvingly, "Good to hear it. Keep me posted." 

* * *

Adrien Agreste was easy to find—at home with one of his roommates, Luka Couffaine—but much harder to "accidentally" stumble upon. Settled on a disused balcony adjacent to their living room window, she occasionally glanced up at them from an unread book as they cuddled on the couch watching something on television. 

The young man was still recognizable from his model days. His face hadn't lost much definition, but the missing quarter of an arm and his heavier frame would may have been enough to throw off old fans. Luka, who she realized may be more of a partner than just a roommate, stroked his blonde hair as they chatted through the movie, occasionally turning their attention to an open computer nearby. 

She wondered how often Adrien got out and when it would be time for her to pursue more drastic measures. For now, she contented herself to wait. Diana could be patient when she wanted to be. 

And so it went. She occasionally disappeared from view of the balcony, breaking into the empty apartment and exploring other vantage points before returning outside. When the movie ended, Luka and Adrien rearranged themselves to set the laptop in front of them and continued to converse with whoever was on the other side of the screen. 

The summer day began to draw to a close when they shut the computer and left the living room. Diana scanned the windows for movement and was pleasantly surprised when the two emerged from a side door. She took the quick way downstairs (a cautious leap behind the taller shrubbery on the ground floor) and followed them down the street. 

A cloth guitar case hung over Luka's shoulder, while Adrien carried a small picnic basket in his hand. She settled into a lazy stroll at a safe distance behind them, catching bits of an animated conversation of the merits of  _ My Life as a Zucchini _ versus another animated movie that she didn't quite catch the title of. Even at the height of summer, Adrien wore a light sweater with the hood up. Luka, with his guitar case and electric blue hair, drew more than a passing glance from people they crossed. 

They met a short, professionally dressed woman at the subway station. She wore a stylish brown jumpsuit with ivy crawling up the arms and legs and carried a blue briefcase. Diana guessed it was their missing roommate, Kagami Tsurugi. The young woman easily linked arms on Adrien's unoccupied side as they continued away from the station and towards the busier street. Diana closed in, catching more of their conversation as they went. Kagami had been called into 'the office' for some emergency. She didn't give any specifics on its resolution other than it was resolved. They filled her in on their conversation with Marinette, who had watched the movie with them. 

They entered a nearby park and found a patch of grass where they began setting up for a picnic. Diana passed them at a leisurely stroll, content that they would be there for a while. Book still under one arm, she went to find some food herself. 

About fifteen minutes later, she returned with fresh cooked falafel, a new hat, and a blanket she could settle on the grass. Luka and Kagami carried the conversation in between bites of food while Adrien plucked on the guitar across his lap with his remaining hand. His prosthetic slid up and down the neck of the guitar, giving him some ability to shift tone. The notes halted awkwardly in places, but were familiar enough to anyone who listened to the radio recently. Diana settled on a bench not too far away to eat and listen. 

" _ You're plucking too hard on the strings _ ," The guitarist informed Adrien, offering a piece of croissant topped with preserves and some meat. " _ I'll have to tune them again if you keep it up _ ." 

Adrien leaned closer so Luka could feed him with a sheepish, " _ Sorry. _ "

Luka booped him on the nose for the apology, startling the blonde man. Both Luka and Kagami laughed at how he wrinkled his face in response. She fed Adrien next, although Luka continued to offer advice on his performance. Adrien didn't complain at the critiques, he simply grew more focused as the afternoon wore on. 

Glancing up over the pages at regular intervals, Diana studied them. They were entirely at ease with one another and made no notice of people who stared too long at Adrien's cosmetic hand. The stares lessened when Adrien handed off the guitar to Luka, who immediately struck up a quiet melody reminiscent of forest walks with a loved one. Kagami took a selfie of the three of them and sent it to someone, sharing a private comment to Adrien that Diana couldn't quite catch. 

As the summer sun finally began to set in earnest, Kagami and Adrien packed up their picnic. Luka continued to play, so Diana figured it would be her best chance to interrupt. 

She tossed her food wrapper and approached, book tucked under her arm. " _ You both play beautifully, _ " she complimented. 

The atmosphere between the three of them shifted. Adrien flushed and stared at a patch of grass near her shoes, Luka accepted her praise with an easy smile and thanks, while Kagami's eyes narrowed in distrust. 

" _ Do you come here often?" _ she asked, hoping to start a conversation.

" _ As often as anyone else who lives here _ ," Kagami answered sharply. Luka snorted a light laugh while Adrien stared harder at Diana's shoes. 

They were protective of him, it seemed. " _ I didn't mean to offend, it was just a nice addition to my reading _ ."

" _ Thank you _ ," Adrien said quietly, " _ we hope you have a good evening. _ " 

" _ If you don't mind, _ " Diana began, stifling a smile as both men reached across to stop Kagami from saying she clearly did mind, " _ I would like to ask you a few questions, Mr. Agreste. Privately, if possible _ ." 

" _ Adrien does not do interviews _ ." Luka's gaze was firm and ice-cold.

" _ I am not a journalist _ ," Diana assured them. " _ I promise, we can stay out in the open. I'll even limit it to three questions. _ " 

" _ No. _ " Kagami stood up. " _ We would like you to leave now. _ "

Diana nodded amiably. " _ I apologize. Have a good evening _ ." She followed the path to the park exit in the opposite direction of their house. Once out of sight, the woman made her way back to the balcony perch to await their return home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in a groove tonight so might try to knock out a new chapter before I head to bed. No promises. 
> 
> Thank you all so, so much for your continued comments. You really keep me going.


	12. The Storm Breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU ALL HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG I HAVE WANTED TO SHARE THIS CHAPTER. Like, I had this part written super early on. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your comments! I am sorry about the clunky fighting scene. I hope you all are staying safe and healthy.

She  _ shook _ . 

And it wasn't fear. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was  _ pissed _ . 

She washed her hands methodically, knees shaking from the sudden surge of anger radiating through her bones. Tikki flitted around her head anxiously. Plagg's eyes glowed in the shadows of her kitchen, following her movements with bated breath.

" _ Are you sure about this, Marinette _ ?" her kwami asked, high-pitched voice up an octave in distress. 

"I am," she told her little goddess in English, voice as cold and hard as steel. She slipped Adrien's ring—for her, it would always be Adrien's—on her finger. 

"Plagg, claws out." 

The cat kwami's laughter echoed in her apartment as she transformed. 

Her bones were on fire. A surge of power started at the center of her back and swept out to her toes and fingers. The noise outside assaulted her senses, black ears flattening against her skull. She clenched her fists, ignoring the pinpricks of her claws on her palms. 

"Keep them safe, Tikki," she said, trying not to read too much into the shock in the kwami's eyes.

The fire that burned inside her drove her to the highest point on her building. Her bright green eyes scanned the rooftops around her. She marvelled at the clarity of her surroundings, even though the distant streetlights were what brought her to this neighborhood in the first place. She felt a whine build up in the back of her throat. Marinette allowed herself to be driven higher, several blocks away to the nearest office building. 

Every jump as Chat Noir energized her. She vaulted with delight, her long braid trailing behind her in the stifling night air. For the first time that summer, she didn't care about the heat or humidity. Saturday night club music, traffic, sirens, and footsteps on the sidewalks below created a cacophonous soundtrack for her ascent up the building. She heard someone scream, a muttered curse of annoyance, the cocking of a gun on one jump. The next bound greeted her with the sounds of breathless lovers, a wailing baby, and the soft whispers of trees in a park. 

Marinette forced herself to stop once she scaled the office building. Of the few times she and Adrien traded their miraculouses, she  _ never  _ felt like this. A small part of her felt nervous, like she was out of control, but it was a distant concern. She needed to find Robin first. 

They were going to have words. 

A flicker in the distance caught her attention. When she focused on the area, south toward the Narrows, she couldn't find it again. Marinette couldn't justify to herself why, but she knew there was something in the Narrows she needed to see. Instead, she figured she could hunt Robin once her curiosity was satiated. 

Vaulting and jumping between buildings meant a longer travel time. Several times she distantly recognized a need to stop, to investigate something, but that knowledge of a mystery in the Narrows pushed her along. Every once and awhile, especially when she turned her head to make an in-flight calculation about a landing, that flicker returned. It got more prominent as she approached the narrow strait of land between Midtown and Downtown. Not brighter, like a light, but thicker, like the fog that clung to gravestones. 

It felt like death. The hairs on her arms stood straight up, but she wasn't scared.

Marinette took a more careful approach as she drew near. In her mind, she knew the summer night wasn't cooling off, but a chill settled over her like a shroud. All too soon, she stopped at the top of a fire escape, just one floor below the roof of where the flicker was. Curiosity overwhelmed the beginnings of her fear and she peaked over to see what drew her here. 

Robin leaned against the roof entry, in the middle of a quiet but heated conversation on a cell phone. It might have interested her to know why he would need both a cell phone and some kind of communications device, but she couldn't focus. A green haze clung to his suit near the center of his chest, oozing out and drifting around him with the wind. 

"You always say that—," he glanced her way and she ducked. "We'll continue this conversation later." She heard him slip the phone back into his belt and snap the pocket shut. 

He sighed dramatically. "I thought you were done dressing up like a cat, Selina." 

Her curiosity vanished in favor of mischief. 

"Not Selina," she called back and vaulted over his head to the other side of the roof. "Someone I haven't met yet?" she practically purred. 

If Robin was surprised, he got over it quickly. She spotted a knife ready in one hand and made no move to defend herself. She clipped her shortened staff to her belt and waited for him to recognize her. 

Robin had hidden his shock that someone outside the family snuck up on him like that, had heard an unknown amount of a private conversation on his phone, and that he had done something stupid like name Selina the second he glimpsed cat ears. 

"Ladybug," he said as casually as he could manage, even though she looked nothing like Ladybug. She had traded her sleek red and black suit for a jet black tunic that bared her shoulders, loose black pants that cut off at the ankle, heavy black boots, three-quarter-length black gloves, a black mask, and a thick green belt around her waist. Black cat ears swiveled at the top of her head, tracking his movements alongside her glowing green eyes. 

"Robin." The playfulness in her voice vanished as she dropped from the raised ledge to his level. "You've been to my apartment." 

Damn. He should've guessed that Plagg would say something. After the first incident, he had hoped the freaky cat would keep it to himself. 

His silence was enough of an answer for her. She prodded again, approaching at a slow walk. "Plagg told me you had a discussion. Care to fill me in?" 

Every step she took closer to him was a test on his nerves. Damian wondered if he should ready himself for an attack. "He told me to back off. I was just doing my due diligence." 

He didn't relax when she settled a few feet away from him, arms crossed in clear annoyance. "Because of the…" she struggled for the words to describe the acid green haze seeping out of his chest. Now that she was closer, Marinette could see a central scar of some kind. "Because of the scar on your chest?" 

Robin's arm involuntarily twitched, like he wanted to cover the area. For the first time, she caught a glimpse of terror.

They stared at each other for a long time. Finally, he asked, "What do you see?"

Marinette shrugged, cocking her head to the side as if to get a better angle. "Green fog? Kind of like someone put a smoke machine in your—wait." She leaned closer, eyes narrowing. "Merde, are those… cuts?" She traced the length of her own arm, mirroring a particularly deep one he knew well. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up something painful for you." 

Damian's entire body strained against the chill of dread that washed over him. He steeled himself and glared at her. 

"Plagg didn't tell you what they are," he said rather than asked. 

Marinette shook her head. "He said I should ask, but it looks… painful. I understand if you would rather not talk about it."

That, Damian did not understand. He had a need to know things and the easy way she brushed off a mystery so close to her unnerved him. Before he could formulate a response, she changed the subject. 

"Speaking of not talking about things. You broke into my apartment." He didn't know her well enough to pinpoint how angry she was but, if he had to guess, she seemed angry. 

Time to choose your words carefully, Damian, he told himself. "I needed to know if you could be trusted. We're in a dangerous line of work." 

She sighed through her nose, lips pursed in a frown. "Why didn't you ask?" 

He let out a bark of laughter, startling them both. "Ask? Ask if we could trust you? Are you stupid?" 

Marinette brushed off the insult. "If you had questions about my motives or who I am, you could have. You might have learned something."

"Like?"

"Like the knowledge you now possess isn't just a threat to you. It is a threat to me and my family. It is dangerous to know who holds a Miraculous." 

"Tt," he spat, "All secret identities are dangerous." 

"They are. But these are powers you don't understand." Her green eyes held him and he couldn't break away. "The Miraculous are secret for a reason. They're too powerful to be common knowledge." 

Damian had heard lines like that before, but he had also grown up in the League. It was always a good idea to at least consider a warning like this.

"Can I talk to him?" he asked. 

Her changed eyes still unnerved him. She studied his expression, trying to gauge his intent. Finally, she said, "Claws in." 

Green light washed over her, removing the cat ears, mask, and suit in its wake. She wore a red hoodie and a pair of black leggings that went down to her calves. Her sneakers were worn at the soles like she had spent a lot of time running in them. Her hair wasn't braided anymore; it was kept back in a simple ponytail. He noticed she wasn't wearing her usual earrings; she had opted for a pair of round black ones. 

Plagg laughed as he appeared out of the light. "I told you to back off. Now you gotta deal with what happens for not listening to me." 

"Plagg, we can be adults about this," Marinette said. She sounded tired, like she had just run a marathon. "He just needs to understand that we are here to help. And that he needs to keep my identity to himself." 

The cat flew around her head and then over to Robin. "Nah, I still feel the need to curse him." The man glared defiantly at the tiny god. 

"Plagg, no!" 

"I said I was just doing my due diligence." Robin crossed his arms, intent on showing he wasn't scared of a big-headed, flying cat. Hopefully it hid the shake in his knees. 

Plagg laughed. "I can make your life more of a hell than you ever imagined." 

Marinette moved in between him and the kwami. "Look, Plagg, I just wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page. Can you please answer his questions?"

Damian's eyes narrowed. He didn't expect her to be defending him like this, especially since he broke into her apartment. 

"Nope. I'm not okay with this, Bug. I want to give him a trial." 

Damian waited to hear the details, but Marinette immediately protested. "That is entirely unnecessary. He's got enough to deal with as it is." 

Again, that was unexpected. "What kind of trial?" Robin asked. 

Marinette threw a glare over her shoulder at him. He stared impassively back, keeping an eye on Plagg. 

The cat grinned, white teeth glinting in the light pollution. " _ Don't worry bug, he won't have any trouble if he is worthy _ ."

"Plagg, can we please talk about this?" Marinette asked. 

"Just a little fight. You and me," Plagg goaded. 

"Plagg!" Marinette shouted.

"I accept," Damian said. Again, the woman glared at him, blue eyes hard. He shrugged and waited for the cat to make a move. Plagg looked delighted, toxic green eyes completely on him now. Robin tried to ignore the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. 

"Here is the one rule," the god started and then threw himself into Marinette. She froze for a second and squeezed her eyes shut. A shudder rippled through her, from her head down to her toes, like a cat settling itself into a hunt. 

She opened her eyes. They were green with cat-eye slits again, but they had taken on a nuclear glow. When she spoke, her voice was garbled with Plagg's. "You can't hurt her." Marinette charged with a raised fist. He moved to block it, but was taken by surprise when she kneed him in the side. Damian knew how to take a hit like that but he didn't expect it to hurt coming from this tiny woman. 

He shoved her to one side, trying to get some space. She gripped his arms and he felt the prickle of claws against his suit. Distracted, he glanced down. Before he could fully grasp the ghastly black claws that plunged into his suit, she headbutted him and threw him away, tearing through the kevlar like tissue paper.

It  _ stung _ . Damian barely rolled into a safe landing before she was on him again. She swiped at his face, razor sharp claws throwing a splatter of blood across her hoodie. He dodged another attack and rolled behind her. She paused, waiting for an attack from behind. He used the moment to back away further, looking for an opportunity to grapple her. Marinette's entire posture has changed, straight backed confidence shifted to a casual and playful slump of her shoulders. 

"I've heard more stories about you, Al Ghul," Plagg spoke through Marinette, still not looking at him. "The things you have destroyed and your little repentance."

"And?" he asked, trying to ignore the pain blossoming across his right cheek. 

She launched herself at him with a flying kick; he braced against the impact with his arms and tried to get a hold of her foot. Again, the claws came for him, breaking through the suit and shredding his arms as they tumbled to the ground. Plagg-Marinette drove her knees into his throat. He struggled for breath, arms scrabbling to keep her claws away from his face. 

"Robin, confirm your status," Oracle chimed through his earpiece. 

"Fine," he grunted. "Just running through some drills. Comm off."

The possessed woman laughed in response. "You're an idiot, but I like that in a kid." 

Robin slid one arm between her thighs, jolting to one side. He caught her from hitting the concrete roof, using the momentum of the catch to flip their positions and try to pin her. She got another swipe in, just above his mask. Blood dripped onto her smile-stretched cheeks. 

"Nice one!" Plagg chided. "Now what about this?" She flipped him over her head, foot digging into the scar that proved Heretic had once ended his life. He didn't fall quite right, head clipping the concrete and shaking his vision. Still, Damian did his best to roll into a crouched, defensive stance. 

Plagg didn't give him much of a chance to recover. She was on him again in seconds, a furious flurry of claws and well-aimed kicks. Damian did his best to dodge the onslaught, but took more than a few painful blows. 

"Doesn't this just piss you off?" Plagg said, narrowing Marinette's eyes into a cruel sneer. It didn't fit her face, but neither did the well-toned muscles she had hidden under her loose clothes. Everyone had secrets and he was sure she had hers beyond the Miraculous. 

"Weak," Damian bluffed, "hardly a reason to get angry." 

Plagg laughed and cracked his nose open with a bone-shattering elbow. 

For the first time in a long time, he wished he was small again. He had been the fastest on the team after Cass, thanks to his short stature and training. Bulking up in his twenties allowed him to take more hits, but it had the unfortunate drawback of kneecapping his agility. He grabbed her elbow, ignoring the splitting pain surging through his already aching head, and forced her forward. Plagg-Marinette stumbled—he didn't use enough strength to throw her on the ground. The challenge tempered his anger and, to be honest, he felt kind of… guilty. 

Regaining her footing, she turned to face him, fists raised. Robin made no move and did his best to ignore the searing pain of his nose and the blood dripping onto his ruined suit. She rushed him again, eyes locked with one another. 

Just for a second, horror overtook her face, acid green disappearing under deep blue. He didn't think—he pulled her forward and leaned backwards. The momentum tripped her up as the green overtook her eyes. Damian took the fall for both of them and rolled over, pinning her forearms to the rooftop and trapping her legs under an aching knee. 

Plagg gave him a distinctly cat-like smile. "Good work, kid." 

Marinette blinked hard, body vaguely uncomfortable as Plagg vacated it. Above her—when did she get on the ground—Robin dripped blood on her hoodie. 

"Shit," she cursed, not even bothering to struggle against him. "I am so sorry." 

Robin waited another moment, face unreadable. He then sighed. "Tt. I think I had it coming." He released her and got to his feet. Marinette stayed on the ground, trying to assess his injuries while processing the leftover chaos coursing in her veins. Her head ached fiercely, but otherwise she was unhurt. 

He offered her a hand up. She took it and let him help her up. 

"I am sorry," she whispered again. "Here, let me—"

"Don't," he ordered. "It's nothing." Damian took a deep breath and reset his own nose. Marinette flinched at the grinding crack of bone.

"Classy," Plagg drawled. "What a tough kid." 

"Plagg!" Marinette shouted, whirling to face the cat and accidentally smacking Robin in the face with her ponytail. "Sorry!" she gasped. 

"It's fine." Damian stepped away out of her hair's range. "Stop apologizing." 

Disbelief clouded her features momentarily, but her anger quickly overtook it. "Plagg!" 

"Yes?" the cat yawned.

" _ That was entirely uncalled for! _ " she yelled in French, startling Damian. " _ This is our ally! We are here to help them! _ " 

"You are here to help them," Plagg corrected her in English. 

Robin watched the back of her neck and ears flush with rage. He waited off to one side, mentally tallying the series of injuries the cat-god had graciously dealt him. He also wanted to hear what Marinette said when she thought he couldn't understand her.

" _ And you are here to help me! This is not helping _ ." 

Plagg sighed, "Ughhhh I suppose." 

" _ Apologize. _ " She ordered the black cat. Damian blinked owlishly at the suggestion. What on earth would that accomplish. 

"I don't wanna," the cat complained.

The conversation went in a direction Damian did not expect. " _ Apologize or no camembert for a month. You're already getting canned cheese this week _ ." 

"WHAT?!" Plagg shrieked. "You can't—"

" _ Two months. _ " Marinette threatened. 

Plagg flew over to Robin, grumbling things like 'can't work under these conditions' and 'just looking out for you.' He stopped just a foot away from Damian, a little too close for comfort for the vigilante. "I am sorry," the tiny god said through gritted teeth.

"I don't understand," Robin replied to Marinette instead. 

"As the keeper of the Miraculous, it is my duty to prevent undue damage to civilians," she then bowed and apologized again. "I'm sorry." 

"I'm not a civilian," Robin shot back, "Stop apologizing." If anything, all these apologies were bothering him more than the numerous cuts Plagg had left behind. 

Marinette didn't argue. Instead, she said, "Claws out." 

"Hey— wait—" Plagg argued as he got sucked into the green light that enveloped her. The transformation didn't feel as powerful as earlier. She guessed Plagg was tired, but she didn't feel too terrible about it. 

"What?" Robin asked. 

Ladybug clipped her staff to the back of her belt. "Come on, let's get you patched up." 

"No," he told her, "It'll be—"

Again, she moved too fast for him. He was suddenly in her arms in a single leap across to the next building. Marinette didn't seem interested in his protests as she carried him like a bride over Gotham's rooftops. 

* * *

Kagami and Luka were inside having a 'discussion' with his childhood bodyguard, Gauthier Barre. Adrien had long stopped calling the man by his Gorilla nickname—especially once he struck out on his own after Gabriel's arrest. He gazed at the curtained window where he could barely make out the shape of Kagami checking on him in the garden. He waved and smiled, even though he doubted she could make it out in the night. 

She hadn't seemed like a reporter, whoever the woman had been, and it was enough to worry his partners. Adrien squinted, turning his face to the darkening night sky. Sometimes he missed being Chat Noir, if only to go out for a run on a beautiful night like this.

Before he could descend into what-ifs, words of a strange language startled him. " _ <Heaven and Earth last forever. Why is this true?> _ " 

Adrien's heart leapt into his throat as he whipped around to face the speaker.

The woman from the park stood in the shadows, away from the light coming off their townhouse. Her black hair now hung free in long curls, eyes dark and unreadable.

" _ You're trespassing. Please leave _ ," he said, unsure of what she wanted from him. 

Diana frowned. Surely the one who possessed the Black Cat would have been trained in the language of the Guardians. Maybe they had dropped it. " _ Heaven and Earth last forever. Why is this true? _ " It was a phrase her mother taught her when she was young, regaling her daughter with tales of the Miraculous on quiet nights in Themyscira. 

Adrien got to his feet, settling into a defensive stance. " _ Please, I don't want any trouble. Just leave _ ."

Odd. Diana changed tactics. " _ How is Plagg? _ " 

The man paled. " _ What? _ " 

" _ How is Plagg? _ " she asked again.

Of all the things he expected her to ask, that was not it. " _ I don't know what that means _ ," he replied carefully. " _ Please leave or I will call the police. _ " 

Getting impatient, Diana lassoed him around the waist. He bit back a yelp, eyes wide with fear. " _ How is Plagg? _ "

Adrien opened his mouth, wincing in pain as he tried to lie. What eventually came out was, " _ I don't know. _ "

Diana approached, curious. " _ Where is Plagg? _ " 

" _ I gave him up. He's— _ ," Adrien choked, suddenly looking horrified. 

" _ You cannot fight the Lasso of Truth. It will only hurt you _ ," she told him, " _ Where is the Miraculous of the Black Cat? _ "

After several agonizing minutes—Diana was starting to feel like she was the bad guy in this situation—Adrien said, " _ With… the Guardian _ ." 

" _ And where is the Guardian _ ?" she asked softly. It took a strong will to fight her Lasso. 

Adrien broke into a cracked smile. " _ I don't know. Somewhere in New Jersey _ ." Tears sprung to his eyes at the last comment. 

Oh no, Diana realized, she was definitely the bad guy. 

She released him from the lasso. Instead of bolting, Adrien stood his ground. " _ I am sorry. When you— _ ,"

" _ Don't hurt her _ ," he begged, " _ Please leave the Miraculous alone. _ " 

She was going to be feeling guilty about this interaction for months, she could already tell. " _ I am sorry _ ." 

The air rushed out of Adrien's body. " _ What? _ "

" _ My mother used to hold the Ladybug Miraculous. When I heard they had been in Paris, I wanted to make sure they were safe. _ " Diana walked over to a nearby bench and sat down, making sure her hands were visible at all times. " _ When you didn't respond to the Order's phrase, I overreacted _ ." 

Adrien gaped. He then, to her surprise and admiration, moved in between her and the house. His knees trembled. " _ You're lying _ ," he accused. 

She wrapped the lasso around her own arm. " _ My mother was a Ladybug holder. Her kwami's name is Tikki. I will not harm you or your family _ ." 

Her admission under compulsion softened his stance a bit, but he didn't budge. " _ What do you want _ ?" 

" _ To ensure the Miraculous are safe with the Order _ ." 

Adrien shook his head. " _ The Order was destroyed nearly two hundred years ago. _ " 

The shock on her face must have been apparent. " _ How…? _ "

" _ I don't know. The last Guardian didn't like to talk about it _ ," he told her. " _ Who are you? _ "

" _ Diana Prince, in public _ ." She peeled back the lapel of her jacket, revealing her alter-ego's suit. 

" _ Wonder Woman? _ " Adrien shrieked, torn between delight and terror.

" _ I apologize for troubling you. Maybe we can restart? I just want to know what happened to the Miraculous once your father was arrested _ ." 

" _ Well… _ " Adrien bated. " _ Maybe you should come inside. It's a long story. _ " 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also excited to write the next chapter. The plot's gonna pick up from here, hopefully, but I still don't have an endgoal, so we might be entering in pining hell for a while. #sorrynotsorry


	13. Truth Heals, Sometimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Inset gif of Mushu screaming, "I LIIIIIIIVE"*
> 
> Thank you all so much for your continued support and feedback. I was in a bit of a creative slump, but here, have 3000ish words of (mostly) dialogue! I have just started a new NEW job (lol) at a molecular diagnostic lab which is entirely focused on COVID. Hopefully I'll be here for a while. It is super cool and also gross because it turns out that human saliva samples are disgusting. 
> 
> Also, a PSA from your friendly fanfic-writing microbiologist: DO NOT GET A RAPID TEST UNLESS YOU HAVE SYMPTOMS. The rapid tests being offered in most urgent cares and clinics are NOT EFFECTIVE when diagnosing asymptomatic people. It's a waste of money and a false sense of security. If you think you have been exposed, ask for a PCR (it'll be the upsetting nasal swab and I am sorry in advance).

They're on her balcony before she pretends to hear him again. Despite his constant—CONSTANT—assertions that he was perfectly fine, Marinette carried him to her apartment without any major attempts to knock them both out of the air. 

Once standing, Robin straightened his tunic and gave her the most haughty look she had seen on a human or a cat. "Good night, Ladybug," he said tersely, before going for his grappling hook. 

She stopped him with a light tap of her baton on his wrist. "You owe me. For breaking in." 

Annoyance contorted into confusion. "That makes no sense." 

"Doesn't have to. Let me at least get some of the blood off your face," she argued. 

Robin dropped his hand from his waist, knocking away her baton in the process. "This is unnecessary." 

"Well, it'll make me feel better. Plus, Tikki might be able to counteract Plagg's energy."

That, he could make sense of. The cuts from their fight stung and itched just as bad as the mess on his back. Even the idea of relief sounded tempting.

"I'll give you homemade cookies if you stop complaining." 

For him, nothing less than Alfred's cooking or the promise of a good Libyan restaurant would tempt Damian to take a food bribe. However, he let her think the additional promise of a treat swayed him. "Fine. The mask stays on." 

"Of course," Marinette told him, "I don't need to know your secret identity to work with someone." 

She missed his owlish look of surprise while she transformed back from Chat Noir to Marinette. If Plagg hadn't immediately started whining, she might have enjoyed the slack-jawed look of genuine incomprehension Robin wore. 

"That was just CRUEL. I'M EXHAUSTED," the kwami yowled with dramatic flair. "What did I do to deserve this?" 

Marinette was unphased. She waved a hand at Plagg as she opened the sliding door into her apartment. "Trust me, you do not want me to start a list." She finally glanced back at Robin, who had returned to a neutral expression. "Do you mind taking off your boots at least? Gotham rooftops are disgusting." 

The fact that he complied so readily with her request versus the fight over any first aid treatment surprised her, but she shrugged it off. Plagg ignored them both and went straight for the fridge. 

"Oh no you don't!" She yelled at the floating cat. "I said canned cheese and I meant it!" 

"You can't do this to me!" Plagg screeched. 

"OH YES SHE CAN." Tikki zipped out of the back hallway and right into her counterpart's face. "What on earth were you thinking? I let you out with my holder one night and… and... " she finally noticed Damian in his bloody glory. Tikki gasped, outraged. In front of Tikki, at least, Plagg at least pretended to be ashamed. She then began to rattle off a series of high-pitched squeaks and tones that neither Marinette or Robin could understand. The ladybug kwami dragged him bodily from the room by an ear. 

Marinette looked just as shocked as Robin did, but she shook it off faster. " _ Learn something new every day, _ " she muttered. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll get my first aid kit."

Alone in the living area, he made his way to the kitchen to at least splash some water on his face. The water stung on his cuts; their movement through the city left the beginning of scabs. When he was finished, Marinette offered him a pink hand towel. He took it wordlessly. 

"I could hear her through the wall, so it might be a little while before we can have her take a look at you." She patted the top of a brand-new first aid kit. "They don't look deep enough for stitches."

He knew otherwise, but he could hide the ones on his arms with no problem. "I said I was fine." 

"You reset your own nose," she pointed out. 

Robin shrugged. "Not the first time."

Marinette frowned at that, but didn't ask any follow-up questions. Instead, she patted one of the barstools. He sat, uninterested in more fighting for the sake of speeding things up to the part where he could go home.

Even seated, he was still taller than her. It was a strange thought, he mused, as she opened a new pack of antiseptic wipes. She didn't seem that small as Ladybug, but the lack of superpowers made their height difference more apparent. 

Damian did not flinch as she lightly blotted the cuts on his face. She didn't comment on the lack of reaction and offered another apology. "I'm sorry about Plagg."

"You've said. It's fine," he replied, trying to see if she would be more transparent at this distance. Their faces were close. 

"A lot of things with you are 'fine,'" she commented. "You know, you could've just asked me." 

"About what?" 

Marinette switched a pale pink wipe for a clean one. "About me. If you are suspicious about my intentions, you can just ask."

He snorted. "That's stupid." 

She flushed, more out of annoyance than embarrassment. It was strangely satisfying to watch her face color, although he wasn't entirely sure why. "What? Communication between partners is important." 

"We're not partners," he told her, studying her disappointed frown in response. 

"I know, it's weird. I'm not used to working alone. You probably know I used to have a partner." 

"Chat Noir," he confirmed. When she nodded, he asked, "And did he really retire?" 

She nodded again, although Damian could tell there was more to that story. "Is Plagg really a god?" 

"I'm not sure if that's…" she struggled for the right word, "accurate? I suppose they could be, but all rules go out the window where magic is involved." 

Something scratched his back sharply. Robin jumped and hissed in pain, turning sharply to look at the source. 

"I'm sorry!" Marinette said, "Are you okay? What happened?" 

"Nothing. Stop apologizing," he settled back in the chair. Had Plagg cursed him somehow? Was it connected to the apartment or her?

"Sor— I mean, I just feel responsible. I didn't think Plagg would do something like that." 

"They sound like a handful." 

She met his eyes full-on for the first time since the fight. Marinette could see the beginning of bruising around his green eyes. "They are," she said a second too late. "Do you need ice for your nose? That's going to bruise bad." 

"I'll take care of it back at the cave." 

"The Batcave is real?" she asked, delighted at the thought.

Eyebrows raised, he refused to dignify the suggestion with a response. Marinette looked like she was going to say something else, but something else caught her eye. 

"Trixx!" she snapped in his face, "Stop it! I invited him here." 

A giggle at his shoulder startled him. When he turned to look, a floating fox leaned into his face. 

"What? I didn't get to see him when he broke in the other night," Trixx complained, looping around his head before settling on Marinette's shoulder. "I wanted to check out Plagg's handiwork." 

" _ If you encourage him, I'm taking the tablet away _ ," Marinette warned him in French. Robin pretended to not understand. Instead he focused on the fact that she might have a veritable army of tiny gods hiding in her apartment. Not only that, she seemed to control them via bribes and modern comforts. 

The threat did not bother Trixx. "Chill out, bug. I thought I'd offer some advice since Tikki is… distracted."

"Well?" she asked. 

"It's a nice bit of cursework.You just gotta open up a little bit," Trixx told him, "You know, since you're a little sneak." 

Damian suddenly had a good idea of what Plagg had carved into his back.

"Can't Tikki remove it? That isn't necessary." 

Again, her response shocked him. He had gone out of his way to dig into her past. He could've stopped at knowing her address and real name. He could've waited until she gave him more cause to deepen his investigation. 

Ah, guilt. That was an unfamiliar feeling. The fox caught his eye and grinned, as if he read the man's mind. Damian definitely didn't appreciate that. 

"She could, but it's just quicker," Trixx told him. "I don't think she's going to be done with Plagg anytime soon. Nice meeting you, birdie."

And with that, the fox dove through the wall. 

"I'm really—," Marinette started, but Robin cut her off with a low growl. 

"Stop apologizing. You've made it clear it wasn't your idea." 

Marinette looked down at her socks. "Okay. Well, we can go out on patrol while we wait for Tikki and Plagg to finish their discussion." She pulled out another wipe. When she lifted it to his face, he grabbed her by the wrist. Even through his glove, he felt like his hand was on fire. Marinette didn't pull away, looking at him with clear blue eyes. 

"I died," he told her, "One of my mother's experiments ran me through." Immediately, he felt the stinging on his back lighten. "They desecrated my body for my betrayal. Batman was able to rescue my corpse and revived me."

Marinette's heart hammered wildly in her chest. Not from disbelief, but horror. "How?" 

"Magic-infused crystal," he replied. Was it the magic that made him feel like he was going to burn up into a crisp. "It might be why I did not offer you the benefit of the doubt." 

Her response was resolute. "I understand. While the secrets of the Miraculous are dangerous, I will answer any question you have if it makes you feel safe." 

Damian barely held back a derisive snort. Safe? He wasn't sure he knew the feeling or if he wanted it. That kind of thinking could get them both killed. "I'm satisfied for now."

Marinette nodded, unsure of what to say. She didn't think an apology for what his family was like would help in that moment. He still gripped her wrist firmly. With his free hand, he pulled a small whistle from his belt and gave it a good blow. It made no noise she could hear.

"I think that's enough for tonight," he said, releasing her as an afterthought. The burning lingered.

"You sure?" He rolled his eyes, startling a laugh out of her. "Okay, okay. I'm sure you've got all that fancy medical equipment at the Batcave." 

He smirked because she was right. He went to the balcony door to slip on his boots. 

"Oh! Right." She opened the cookie jar on the counter and offered it to them. Homemade chocolate chip cookies made up the innards of the cat. "For not complaining." 

He took two, which seemed to please her. "See you around, Ladybug."

"I'm not a superhero in this getup," she told him. 

Damian conceded the point with a curt nod. "Fine. See you around, Dupain-Cheng." 

Before Marinette could protest at the use of her last name, he was gone. For someone without powers, he moved fast. She wasn't sure if it made up for the bad attitude. 

"He's fun," Trixx said, reappearing from his hiding spot in the cabinet. "Let's keep him." 

She giggled. "Stop. He's not a pet." 

"He could be though!" the fox insisted as she threw away the soiled wipes and put her first-aid kit away. "Think of the possibilities."

"You're ridiculous," she said with a smile. "Wanna join me for some Project Runway?

* * *

Goliath perked up from his corner of the cave, startling Dick out of his aimless scrolling through social media. He had half a mind to follow the dragon-bat out and see why Damian called him. He doubted it was anything significant. Maybe he was feeling lazy and wanted a ride home. He trusted the young man to take care of himself. And if something was wrong, at least Goliath knew where to come for help.

Goliath’s loud screech upon their return nearly half an hour later had surprised him more. Dick scrambled from the main computer terminal to see what distressed the beast so much.

“Damian, I haven’t seen you that thrashed since…” Dick struggled to remember and shook his head. “What happened?”

Robin shrugged off Goliath, who still whined in concern over his friend. “Perfect,” he growled, “Whatever, come give me a hand.”

Dick followed him to their medical area. “Sure. But what happened?”

Damian whirled around to face him. Years ago Dick towered over him, but those days were long gone. Eye to eye, he could see bruising around his eyes.

“Got into a fight. Isn’t it obvious?” was Damian’s short response.

“Into a fight with what? Your tunic is in shreds.”

Damian shrugged off the garment, mask still in place. “It’s not important. I took care of it.” He tossed his tunic aside. Defensive wounds had torn through old scars on his forearms, bleeding sluggishly.

“Shit, Damian.”

“I know.” His youngest brother snapped. “Can we drop it? I’m tired. I just need some stitches.”

“I’ll check your nose too,” Dick muttered, “You sure you don’t want me to call an actual medical professional?”

“I’m essentially a medical professional,” he retorted and pointed to two of the larger gashes, “Four stitches there and probably seven stitches on that one.”

Richard shook his head but got their stitch kit out anyway. Asking his brother if he wanted anesthetic would be a waste of breath.

The needle broke skin. For some reason, the usually comforting sting of a surgical needle loosened his tongue. "How's Kor'i and Mar'i?"

Dick raised an eyebrow and replied casually, "Their last transmission looked fun. Ready for them to be home."

Damian hummed. "It's been three weeks." 

"It's Mar'i's first trip. A lot of relatives to meet." His brother blotted away blood as he pulled the thread through. "Goliath's been here for a while now too. When is he headed home?" 

Damian considered the beast that watched them from the foot of the bead. He seemed more calmer, but still worried. "When he gets bored, I suppose."

"Sooo… if it wasn't another Man-bat attack, then did you piss off Sabrina?" 

"No." 

"To the Man-bat or Sabrina?" 

Damian couldn't keep the smirk from his lips. "No."

"I have a needle, you know," Dick reminded him.

"I have never been more aware," Damian drawled as it slid through his skin. 

His brother laughed, like he had meant him to. "Give me a clue then, since you insist on guarding your secrets like Titus guards a bone." 

"I had it coming. The situation is resolved." He motioned Goliath over to give his friend a good chin scratch. It served to calm the dragon-bat even more. 

They lapsed into silence, Dick trying to decide who Damian had pissed off recently. He couldn't think of someone or something with claws strong enough to tear through their suits. They were made of strong stuff, so he wasn't assured by Damian's insistence that the situation was handled. 

"Oh," Dick remembered as he tied off the first cut. "I almost forgot, Duke changed his mind. He's coming to the party." 

"Thomas changed his mind, or father changed his mind for him?" 

Dick shrugged. Damian had it right, that Bruce had called their other brother for additional assistance at the gala. He seemed to think whatever Riddler was planning would involve a disruption that night. "And maybe he wants a second opinion on our new friend." 

Damian groaned, to Dick's surprise. "They'll get along perfectly, I'm sure." 

Like a shark smelling blood in the water, Dick realized why Damian had been so pissy all week and why his brother said the trashing was earned. "Ah. Didn't know Ladybug had claws." 

"She does not," he snapped. Goliath whined. "Stop upsetting him." 

"Uh huh. So her cat partner isn't retired?" 

Damian glowered. 

"Cause if that's the case, why is she hiding him from us? She seemed to assure her fans that the cat boy was safe and retired," Dick thought out loud, trying to goad Damian into conversation.

Chin jutted out, Damian turned to give more of his attention to Goliath.

"Wait, is this why Cass was so pissed? She said you were stalk—," 

He saw an opportunity and he took it. "I made a mistake, alright?" Damian snapped, reddening his face as much as he could by thinking about how stupid he felt when Plagg knocked him on his ass. "I thought I had the right person. I broke into the wrong apartment, and I got beat for it. Can we drop it?"

Goliath glared at Dick, who gaped at his brother. 

He finished off the next stitch, unsure of what to say as Damian settled his breathing. His ears were red. 

"So… it wasn't Ladybug's cat partner?" 

This tidbit he would share with his family. "No. Ladybug took on his persona though. I think their magic is tied to a physical object or spell of some kind. My contacts are still digging." 

Dick took off his brother's mask, inspecting the blooming sunrise of a bruise. "On the one hand, I'm impressed, but on the other hand I'm kind of pissed."

"I am done talking about this," Damian told him. "I'll get—,"

"I'm not," Dick cut him off. "I can understand pissed, but she hurt you. She's way stronger than we thought she was, and that makes her dangerous." 

Nope, nope, nope, he needed to backpedal. "Richard, I'm serious. I had this coming. She got me off balance and took a little more skin than I was expecting."

"Still…"

"Ladybug should have done a lot worse in light of my recent behavior," he insisted, "and she apologized far too much once we were done fighting. Apparently breaking into young women's apartments is a sore spot for her." 

Dick's eyes narrowed, "Now Damian, I know you didn't mean anything—,"

"It doesn't matter. It looked bad. Cass was right to be pissed at me, Ladybug was right to be pissed at me. You should be pissed at me." Damian took the kit from Dick. "Thanks. I'll get the other one myself." 

He ignored Richard's protests as he stormed from the cave, Goliath in his wake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am gonna have so many W-2s next year it is not even funny. 
> 
> Seriously though, thank you all for your comments and kudos! I read every one, and read them over again when I'm feeling down. Hope you all are staying safe and at home. 
> 
> A repeat of the PSA from your friendly fanfic-writing microbiologist: DO NOT GET A RAPID TEST UNLESS YOU HAVE SYMPTOMS. The rapid tests being offered in most urgent cares and clinics are NOT EFFECTIVE when diagnosing asymptomatic people. It's a waste of money and a false sense of security. If you think you have been exposed, ask for a PCR (it'll be the upsetting nasal swab and I am sorry in advance).


End file.
